Cruise Control
by Blcklagoon
Summary: Finally a vacation? Not so fast. Jane and Maura are swept up in a dangerous plot that will test their survival skills and their friendship. Raw decisions made under stress will shake the foundation of their relationship. They may be saved, but they may not recover.
1. Chapter 1

\- j&m: cc -

She was surprised that she had let Maura talk her into this. Jane hadn't taken a vacation in more than five years. The only time she ever missed work was when she was injured or the odd day to help a family member move. Jane was not one to be out of the action, and the guilt of not trying to pull twice her weight on a daily basis made her feel... vulnerable.

In fact, vulnerable was the perfect word for it. Jane felt vulnerable about so many things - most things. Maybe it was the byproduct of being an uneducated, lanky daughter to a blue collar family in the hick neighborhood of Boston, simple minded and unexposed beyond the narrow vein of society that lived, worked and played within a 10-block radius. Venturing out from a beat cop to a big city detective was the most adventurous move of her life. One she was drawn to by an inner urge to protect and serve like some comic book superhero.

Perhaps it would have been easier if the quest included a mask, cape or armored suit, something that could have protected her from the monster that was Hoyt. It was a cruel twist of fate. She had become Boston's first female detective. She had established herself as a contributor and reliable back up. She had just begun to believe she belonged. Then in one horrific night, the thread of confidence she had built was snapped the moment Hoyt crucified her to the dirt floor of that basement. Bared and raw, she tumbled down a slope of insecurity from which she would never fully recover.

So offense was her best defense and she had become quite good at emanating a fog of confidence that cast off any doubters in the detective pool. Her aggressive first attack put everyone on their heels and kept them from looking beyond the tough outer shell. She lead with a bravado that most assumed was ego borne of excellence. But Jane didn't feel excellent. She felt cheap. Like a charlatan and a fraud.

Bravado didn't work with family and friends. So the weapon there was sarcasm...but the results were the same. Deflect. Always deflect. Isolate. Protect. Control. This was the creed that Jane used to stop her from succumbing to the tidal wave of anxiety that lay precariously dormant every waking moment or her life.

So it was rather surprising that she now sat in first class on a flight to Miami heading toward a week-long cruise through the Caribbean. Every airborne mile took her further and further from her comfort zone. Out of the city. Out of the country. Foreign languages. Foreign cultures. She was gazing out the window wondering how she had let this happen when a soft, warm hand covered hers. Grazing the raised scars on the back and gripping the underside of her palm, a gentle squeeze stopped the teetering for a moment and brought Jane into balance.

Maura was the antithesis of Jane in so many ways. Though she often joked about not being good with the living, Maura was actually a social patrician. Ever the googlemouth, she relished in knowing the right answer and she knew all the rules of etiquette. What to say and how to act. She had poise. And it also seemed to Jane that in the time they had been friends, Maura had become one accomplished flirt.

"I love to fly," Maura spoke softly into Jane's ear as she leaned over toward the window. "It is such an interesting perspective to see life at a macro-level. It's like the planet has its own anatomy. Cities are organs connected by a circulatory system of roads and rails - just like the human body."

"Yeah. And both are made up of mostly water." Jane chimed in looking back toward her friend. She smiled producing dimples in her cheeks.

"Actually that is a common mis-reference. The human body is composed of only 57% water with the average male at as much as 62%. And while the Earth's surface is generally believed to be 70% covered by water, the total percentage by mass is less than 22%."

"Well, that's public school for you," Jane smirked and turned back toward the window.

The flight attendant stopped by their seat to offer drinks. Jane shrugged and Maura politely requested a sparkling water with lemon. The attendant brought Maura her drink and noticed curiously that her guest fumbled to grab the cup with her left hand rather than let go of her companion.

* * *

"Maur...Maur...wake up". Jane gently nudged the blonde head that had adopted her shoulder as a pillow. "We are going to land, and it is the last call for the bathroom."

Maura lifted her head but kept her eyes closed for a moment, a contented smirk on her lips. She stretched her neck and slowly looked up, moving her legs aside so that Jane could squeeze past. Even sleeping in an airplane seat was restful as long as her friend was nearby.

A few moments later, Jane had returned and they were touching down on the Southern tip of Florida. Jane reached under the seat for her backpack. It must have weighed twenty pounds with the sunscreen, snacks and service revolver she had disassembled and tucked in its case. Maura could not understand why Jane insisted on bringing the latter, but the off-duty detective would not budge until they had cleared with the cruise line that she could pack her weapon.

Maura on the other hand had a classic Coach roller bag with heavens knew what she would need before their luggage made it to their cabin. It clattered behind her platform pumps as they made their way toward the perky cruise line rep.

First of all, it was humid. Jane could feel drips of sweat running down the middle of her back under her tank top, button-down shirt and jacket. She had stayed at the precinct looking for a break in the kidnapping case until Korsak pushed her into the cab Maura had ordered to take them to the airport. If her well-funded friend hadn't paid for the trip, she would have called the whole thing off to stay on the case. And why was every single person wearing white shorts and obnoxious flower print shirts? It looked like she had walked into the middle of a retirement brochure. And smiles and pictures - all around her like a bunch of delirious cows on happy pills headed toward a cargo bay.

By the time she and her companion pushed their way through the cramped halls and thrust the door open to their cabin, Jane was about to pop her Italian cork. As the door snapped closed behind them, the muffled quiet mixed with the air-conditioned cool and Jane was dumb-struck by the two-bedroom balcony suite with a living room and flowers on every flat surface.

"Holy crap, Maura. This place is bigger than my apartment!" Jane's jaw continued to gape as she surveyed the spacious rooms and decor. "I thought cruise cabins were supposed to be like sardine cans."

"Jane," Maura slid her bag into the bedroom opposite the balcony. "I knew this was the one time I was going to succeed in getting you to take a vacation so I thought I should make it count. Why don't we unpack some things before we go topside for the Bon Voyage party? Take the water side so you can listen to the surf while you sleep."

Thirty minutes and the first of many wardrobe changes later, the two friends were making their way to the deck rail having swiped their room key in exchange for two large tri-colored frozen drinks with fruit umbrellas out the top. Caribbean music streamed from the loudspeakers as couples and families shook streamers and waved to the land lubbers staying ashore. As the ship made its way toward open water, a rakishly handsome man passed the still scowling detective and reached out to the bubbly blonde doctor. They exchanged hello's and began to dance, drinks still in hand. The sea breeze caught Maura's hair and she shook her head and laughed. The wind caught Jane's hair, too, and she struggled to untangle it from the pineapple drink ornament. God, how she wanted a beer.

* * *

"Maura, please. Go have a nice dinner. Enjoy yourself. This is your vacation, too. I'm too tired to get dressed up." She yawned and stretched her arms over her head at the thought. "Dennis looks like a charmer. I'm sure you'll have a great time."

Maura finished clasping the diamond and gold necklace that hung short on her neckline. She smoothed the fitted emerald green taffeta dress and slipped into her Manolo Blahnik d'Orsay pumps. "I can't leave you here alone. You need to eat. The 'Anchor's Away' review is after dinner in the forward auditorium. You can't miss that." When they first arrived, Maura had attacked the activities schedule like a textbook, highlighting her favorite options from dockside yoga to napkin folding.

"Oh, I think I can. I'll get something from room service or wander up to the food-never-ends buffet. Besides, I won't be much fun until I get my head out of work mode."

"Are you certain?" Maura searched Jane's face trying to divine if she really was OK with them separating.

"Yes. Just be back before midnight. Or if not, go to his cabin. These walls are paper thin."

Maura's eyes twinkled at the thought and she reached for her purse as she headed out the door.

Jane sat in a pair of soft, loose sweatpants with her arms crossed in front of her against the cool night breeze drifting across the balcony. She had moved one of the chairs out and propped her feet up on the first rail. Her back sagged against the curve of the straps as she listened to the surf. The moon was high and cast a picturesque shine across the rolling waves.

She had been out here for what felt like hours entranced by the gentle sway of the ship. It took her a while to put her finger on why things felt so odd. There were no cars. No streetlights. No dogs barking. Jane had lived in the city all of her life. Out in the middle of the ocean, she felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon of isolation. Surprisingly, it didn't make her anxious. As foreign as it was, she felt oddly in synch with the environment. Slowly, the calm began to permeate her pores like hot water through a tea bag. Her hyperactive brainwaves slowed to a simmer and become still.

She edged toward sleep but stayed focused on the spans of water in front of her. In the far, far distance she could see another ship. It didn't have enough lights to be another cruiser. Maybe a cargo hauler? What would she know? She pondered mildly as a gull cawed overhead and flew out to sea.

* * *

It was 11:45 when Maura made her way back to the cabin. She and Dennis had enjoyed a lovely dinner and arrived just in time for the evening show. It was dreadful, just as Jane had predicted. They left at intermission and found a piano bar where small candles dotted quiet tables and jazz filled the room. Dennis was a businessman from New York looking to get dive certified with some B-school friends. This was his first time in the Caribbean. Maura had told him she was a doctor, but omitted the nature of her specialty. He never asked and, in return, she never asked what kind of business he was in. The conversations were light and pleasant. They were each on their second manhattan when Dennis leaned in for a slow kiss.

It was nice and carefree. It wasn't like a normal date. Both knew there were no expectations beyond the few days they had on the ship. They could just enjoy the physical connection without considering a deeper meaning. The slow jazz tones kept their exchange dulcet and unhurried. Lips slowly caressed lips as their tongues languidly tasted each other.

Dennis had invited Maura back to his cabin, but she demurred. Not that she wasn't interested for sure. She could think of no better cap to the evening than stretching naked across a bed and allowing the heavy sway of the boat to enhance the pleasure of their lovemaking. And Dennis was a fine specimen for the job. Maybe if they ran across each other on another evening. But this was her first night on the ship and Maura didn't want to spend the morning looking for her heels under someone else's bed.

She slid the card key into the slot and slowly flexed the handle. The lights were off and she tried not to disturb the quiet as she slipped off her shoes and set her purse on the table next to a half eaten room service sandwich. Maura felt cool air movement and looked up toward the sliding door. For a moment, she thought it had been left open. Then she saw the shadow of a figure reclined in a chair on the balcony. She padded toward her friend expecting that she had drifted off, but as she got near, she could see eyes blinking in the moonlight.

Maura approached the back of the chair and placed her hands softly under dark hair. She ran her fingers over bare shoulders under the tank top and began to slowly massage the muscles that were taunt but not tense. She could have sworn she heard a low moan drift back on the breeze.

"Did you have a nice night?" Jane's voice was even raspier than normal and it vibrated Maura's chest.

"Yes. Dennis is a hunk." Maura's fingertips danced across her collarbone with a gentle touch. She dragged her palms flat along the curve of Janes shoulders and kneaded her toned upper arms. For several minutes she drew her hands up and around to the beat of the surf.

"You didn't have to come back." Jane tilted into what was now a caress and leaned her head back to look up at Maura.

"I know." Maura dropped her head forward to place a kiss on Jane's brow as she gave her shoulders a last squeeze. "Don't stay up too late." And she headed off to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jane!" The detective woke with a start and nearly slipped completely from the chair onto the rough balcony floor. She scrambled to her feet and whirled around to see Maura standing in the middle of the cabin in a silk camisole and sleep shorts. "Tell me you didn't sleep out there in a chair!"

Jane ran a hand through wind-tangled hair and leveled a lop-sided grin. "OK. I won't tell you that is what I did."

"Well don't complain to me if you have a sore back all day."

Jane entered the cabin and walked straight past Maura to her room throwing over her shoulder, "I was counting on you to rub it for me...or maybe I should find Dennis. I bet he woke up frustrated this morning."

Maura stomped right into the room behind her. "Jane Rizzoli! What would possibly make you think I would leave a man frustrated? Are you calling me a tease?"

"Well, doctor," Jane answered cockily. "You came back last night without lipstick." Maura looked back mouth agape. "I am a detective after all." Cooed Jane as she sauntered toward the shower.

After a wash up and quick bite of breakfast, the two ladies found themselves out on deck four which housed a walking track that circled the entire ship. The breeze was lovely. Most folks were on the top deck enjoying the pool and overhead sun. There were few passengers about as they strolled along the railing. The ship was cruising at a good pace directly South. On the East side they could see another Norwegian Starline in the far distance likely headed to a Caribbean port. On the West side, the ship Jane had seen last night was much closer. She could see now it was a commercial vessel, but there was little on the outside to tell her what kind. Everywhere else, there was open sea - no land in sight.

On their second lap, Jane came up to the inlaid shuffle board layout and handed Maura a stick. Jane was a natural athlete. The fact that she had never played did little to deter her confidence.

"Now we finally have an activity I can win at on the dang boat,"Jane smirked. At her companion's dismissal, she goaded further. "Shall we put a wager on this one?"

Maura sauntered past her to the edge of the play field, "Jane, dear. This sport is about finesse. You'll find you can't just muscle your way to victory here."

Jane raised an eyebrow as she admired Maura's hippy swagger to the line. Maura addressed the puck and with a fluid stroke sent it gliding along the deck to land squarely in the opposite scoring zone. She leaned against her paddle and continued. "This is the sport of kings played more than 500 years ago with King Henry the VIII. Commoners were forbidden from play. The pole is referred to as a tang and the puck is a weight, rock or quoit. However, the colloquial reference for what I just did is "send the biscuit."

Jane rolled her eyes a bit as she addressed the blue disk. With a mighty shove she sent her puck whizzing along the deck. It collided with Maura's and sounded a sharp CRACK sending the red disk careening off the playfield. Jane smirked. "That is called knocking the shit out of your opponent."

By their third game, the ever-present wait staff had set them up with more fruity drinks. The two ladies laughed as they found each's technique had advantages and frustrations. Both games were tight. Jane's first round win came with a pledge to catch the action flick playing in the ship's cinema. And Maura's narrow second game had Jane committed to dressing up for dinner tonight. Spa selections lay in balance for the last round - soothing massage for the weary detective or mani-pedi for the dainty doctor.

"Come on, Jane. Your committed to dressing up tonight anyway. Wouldn't you look beautiful with freshly painted nails?" Maura was holding out a bottle of bright red polish.

"Toes, Maura. I told you. Nail polish is a waist on me. I'll have it chipping off in an hour."

Maura tilted her head down and looked up with puppy dog eyes. "Please Jane? For me? That movie was dreadful after all and you really should pamper yourself now and again."

"Urgh," Jane growled. She snatched the bottle and resigned herself to the spa chair. Maura smiled at her manipulated victory and skipped after her.

* * *

Tonight's dinner was at one of the ship's themed restaurants - The Speakeasy. The entire room was in black and white and the decor looked like a set from one of those 1920s gangster films. Their waiter had just dropped off appetizers and the ladies were sipping from two of the menus recommended drinks. Jane had a whiskey concoction called the "Fall Guy" and Maura ordered a fruity drink called the "Sucker Punch."

"Are you enjoying yourself, Jane?" Maura looked hopefully.

Jane popped a shrimp in her mouth and chewed slowly. If she had been given her choice, Jane's vacation would have involved throwing jeans and t-shirts in a bag and driving the four hours to Cooperstown for the Baseball Hall of Fame. She would have stopped at every greasy diner on the way and spent each night at a Best Western run by some old couple and preferred by truckers.

Instead, she'd spent the day trapped on a floating bus playing games and being primped in a crowd whose prevailing mood united for a recording-breaking score on the perky-meter.

Still, hanging out with Maura could elevate any activity and Jane had to laugh. They must look like an old married couple - Jane the curmudgeon old husband and Maura the faithful wife dragging him here and there in a forced attempt to expand his horizons. She complained about everything, but Maura remained in good humor and almost seemed to enjoy the tug-of-war with each new activity. Although, it would crack her sully reputation, Jane had to give Maura her deserved victory.

"Yeah, Maura. I gotta hand it to you, I've actually had a really nice day."

The smile on Maura's face radiated the room. She reached over and covered Jane's hand with her own. "That's so important for me to hear, Jane. Neither of our careers is always pleasant, but you need a break from the constant stress. I know police officers are often married to their jobs and I've seen you work day and night on cases without a rest."

Perhaps it was the distance this crazy cruise vacation gave her from said job or just the drinks, but what Maura intended as a no doubt throwaway comment struck a serious cord for Jane. She responded in a way that revealed how heavy the mantel weighed on her.

"I know, but I really don't have a choice. When a murder happens, the clock starts ticking. If we don't get a solid lead in the first 24 hours, the chances of solving the case drop through the floor. And you know as well as I do, people who kill once will kill again. If I don't nail these bastards, more people will get hurt." Jane stopped talking when she recognized the look on Maura's face. It was her diagnosis stare. Her brow furrowed as she slide the pieces of her logic puzzle firmly into place. In a moment, she would take a short centering breath and relay her findings.

Jane ever so slightly rolled her eyes when she saw Maura's shoulders rise and settle with the expulsion of air.

"Jane," she said softly as if speaking to a frightened child. "You must know that you do not owe the world anything."

Now Jane's brow furrowed. Where was this going?

"You have the people-pleasing gene."

"What?" Jane pulled her hand away and reached for her drink. "Maura, you must have me confused with someone else. I don't give a shit what people think."

"That may be true, Jane." Maura said patiently, "But nonetheless, you are driven very hard by the need to make things right. And you take responsibilities that are beyond you. Look at how you have tried for years to compensate for your older brother's shortcomings. The first borns in Italian families have big weights on them and you have taken that from Tommy. This predisposition is what led you to police work. It is your job to shoulder the responsibility for all of those disappointed families whose children have taken a bad path."

Jane shook her head. "Maura, please tell me you are not equating Tommy to a bunch of murderers."

"No, of course not. But Jane, you do step into the void. And often it fills a need from which society would rather turn its head. I think..." Just then the waiter arrived carrying two dishes brimming with lobster and pasta.

"Wow, this looks great!" Jane didn't enjoy being under Maura's microscope. She twirled her fork in the creamy noodles and gave it a slurp. Thankfully, Maura read her desire to move from that subject. Her features relaxed and she smiled at Jane's attempt to wrestle the pasta into her mouth.

"Well, I must say again how nice you look. You really are a beautiful woman, Jane." Oh boy, the spotlight was still on her. After the spa visit, Maura had insisted on a "little shopping." When she met Jane back at the cabin, she'd entered with bags upon bags with new outfits, shoes and accessories for the two of them. Jane marveled at how the sleek blue dress fit her perfectly. She even sat patiently and let Maura style her hair like her own personal Barbie doll. Really, what harm was there if it made Maura this happy?

With a patient smirk, she nodded to herself and set about to enjoy a great Italian meal with her best friend.

"Maura?"

"Dennis!"

A fettuccine dangled from Jane's mouth as she looked up to see the hunk from last night negotiate his way toward their table. She made an attempt at a graceful recovery while said hunk leaned down to kiss Maura. She couldn't help a mini snort at the look on his face when her friend demurred with a cheek instead of what he was aiming for.

"You remember my friend Jane? Please join us."

Dennis pulled a seat close to Maura and silently acknowledged Jane.

Yes, asshole. I'm the friend with the gun. She thought loudly to herself.

After ten minutes of awkwardly trying to engage in three-way conversation, the waiter returned with dessert menus. That was Jane's cue for a semi-graceful escape.

"Are you sure?" Maura clasped her hand over Jane's. "This was our night out."

"Nah," the brunette stood and scooted her chair out. "We had the whole day and dinner. You guys stay and enjoy yourself." Dennis was ordering cheesecake and a brandy oblivious to the exchange. Jane didn't like the guy. Call it gut or maybe just any warm-blooded male who had claim to the honey-blonde's attention. She mentally rebuked herself for the self-centered thought. Just before she turned to go, Jane gave a stern be careful look to her friend and headed out.

* * *

Not quite ready to return to the empty cabin, Jane made her way to the top deck to check out the night's sky. Good lord, another buffet was splayed out midship and the pool area was filled with families bobbing to the surf and watching some animated movie on the big screen.

She made her way forward past the crowd and leaned her arms against the deck railing. The breeze was warm and humid, familiar to the Bostonian, but yet foreign with the layering of salty sea. The starry sky was also different. There wasn't much stargazing in the glow of the fourth largest city in the US. Glancing down from said stars, she noticed that boat (aka ship) off to the port side but much closer now. Maybe it was headed to the same port they would be docking at. Hpmf...Jane puzzled and strolled along the railing to the very front of the ship.

A sly smile crept over her features at the sight of a netted in basketball court. Five boisterous guys were having it out in a sweaty show of muscle. Jane slipped off her low heels and stepped into the fray just as the ball skittered near her narrowly missing a line of empty beer bottles.

"Looks like you could use a sixth."

Three of the guys oogled her figure in the tight dress. One just snorted a laugh. And the last spoke up. "Right, girlie. I don't think we want that big of a handicap."

"Suit yourself," dismissed the dark beauty. With a squint of concentration she popped the ball high over their head and landed a swish in the far basket. Oogle that, assholes, she thought as she walked off.

"Whoa, whoa," the alpha called after her. "How about we order another round and give you a try after all?"

Just past 1am, they had ordered two rounds for last call. The boys had a head start on her, but given the body weight difference, she was feeling pretty tipsy herself. Barefoot and in a tight dress, she was still able to hold her own and had gained the healthy respect of her teammates. They had pooled their booze for a final round of shots for shots. She was convinced at least one of the players would be sleeping on the court tonight.

Final shot made, she grabbed her heels and sauntered toward the exit.

"Hey girlie! You need any help finding your cabin?"

Jane glanced back over her shoulder with a patented smirk. "I think I've got it fine, Ajax." She couldn't help a little sachet of the hips in her tight dress as she wandered off.

The truth was it actually took some concerted attention to navigate the stairs to the deck. Unlocking the cabin door, she instinctively canvassed the room. There were cutesy towel creatures on the bed, but no other changes...and no Maura. Jane sighed, grabbed her sweats and commenced wiggling inch by inch in an attempt to divest herself from the slinky dress. Victory at last. And no Maura meant no nagging, so she pushed the notion of teeth brushing and make up removal for the morning. Flopping diagonally across the bed, Jane grabbed the towel monkey and fell asleep.

Scarcely an hour later, she awoke with a start. Jane lay face up staring at the cabin ceiling with knit brows. Something was off. She sat up gingerly nursing a stiff neck and pulsing temples and scanned the room. What was it? Focus, she told herself. Concentrate on your senses. Everything was still and quiet. Then it hit her...the boat had stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

The boat had stopped.

Maura lay face up staring at the cabin ceiling with knit brows. Something was off. They weren't due to arrive in Aruba until after 9am. She knew this because her hyper accurate schedule outlined time for them to watch the port entry from the upper deck just before the galley tour. Were they this early? A differential diagnosis organized itself in her scientific brain. Fast current? Tail winds? Engine trouble? Weather diversion?

A snort-like "man noise" brought her attention to a bed companion. Dennis was sound asleep, just as he had been shortly after their lovemaking. Maura took a moment to muse. Their evening had been nice, but nothing special. Like most men, Dennis was primarily focused on his own satisfaction. Still, it had been nice and it had been a while and If nothing else, the businessman scuba diver was certainly a fine specimen.

The doctor was wistfully recalling his anatomical landmarks when a forceful pounding rattled the cabin door. The body next to her jumped at the sound, and she gathered the covers up around her chin in some vain attempt at self protection.

To her further surprise, Dennis sprang from the bed without a backwards glance, slipped on boxers and opened the door. Maura gasped as four men clad in black commando gear pushed their way in. Her eyes darted from the men to Dennis and she was shocked to see that he was not.

"Seriously, Mark? You had to work in a piece of tail tonight?"

Her lover was grabbing gear out of a duffle bag the men had brought and began dressing in similar garb. "Well, the plan was 5am. I would have kicked her ass out by then. Why are we moving up?"

Maura puffed angrily. She had never, ever been asked to leave a man's bed. And did they just call him Mark? Perhaps these points are not important now, she chided herself as the lead man approached the bed...leering.

"Maybe I'll get some tail myself while you get ready?" With that, he grabbed the sheet and ripped it from Maura's grasp. Anger instantly morphed to fear as she was laid bare to the room full of men. Eight lust-filled eyes took in everything below her neck. Maura scrambled to the floor on the far side of the bed shielding herself as best she could in the cramped quarters.

"Let her be," Dennis...or Mark snapped while sliding the last of this gear into place. "Come on. Let's stay focused and get this job done."

The vocal leader drew what Maura knew to be an M9 beretta and pointed it toward her head. "What are we going to do with her then?"

"Get out and leave that to me." Mark closed the door behind them and moved around the bed toward the shaking blonde. Maura searched his face for signs of compassion believing against her own better judgement that he was still friend not foe. Any hope of respite vanished when her date brutishly grabbed her upper arm and flung her face first onto the bed. Her long hair covered her face and a knee was thrust on her lower back to keep her in place. A chill coursed through her bones when she heard a ripping sound near her exposed backside. Oh God, she braced herself. But he only grabbed her wrists and bound them tightly behind her with duct tape. She was pulled back by her shoulders and summarily dumped back on the floor.

Shock and a healthy dose of fear kept her from uttering a word. More questions came than could be asked, but she gambled that if she could just stay compliant, the threat would soon leave. Her lips were quivering as he leaned in for a goodbye kiss. At the first touch, she wrenched her head to the side.

"Suit yourself," he sneered and reached up to fondle a helpless breast. With a last pinch, he rose and headed for the door. "Thanks for last night, bitch." And he was gone.

Maura leaned back against the wall and side table. Tears streamed down cheeks to land on a shaking torso. A cloud was pushing in over her brain as her current state seeped in. She was naked and bound somewhere on the ship and bad guys with guns were on the loose. Relief, anger, fear, anxiety, shock... Oh Jane...help me!

* * *

To say her head was fuzzy was an understatement. Jane sat on the side of the bed gathering her wits. The moon had set making it difficult to see anything on the black ocean. She could have just gone back to sleep, but her spidey senses were pinging and she'd had too many near-death experiences to ignore them. Wobbly legs moved her through the cabin. She slipped a sweatshirt over her tank top and slipped her feet into sneakers. With only the briefest hesitation, she headed toward the safe for her gun.

The vertigo-inducing, seemingly endless corridor outside their cabin was empty. Not that she expected much else at the present hour, but again, the hairs on her neck prickled. Something was amuck. Her first thought was to find Maura. As distasteful as it sounded to interrupt her water-bound affair, the real obstacle was that Jane only knew her date's first name. On a ship this size, there were certainly a few creeps named Dennis.

Before she made like cupid's cavalry, she sidetracked to the top deck for an aerial look around. Since she'd seen nothing out their cabin window, she crossed the deck midship and came out the top on the other side. Port or starboard, east or west, she had no clue, but on whatever side she was on, the boat she'd seen yesterday was now right along side the cruise ship. Jane ducked low on the deck when she spotted the armed men standing watch.

Shit, she thought to herself. My luck to run into modern day pirates on my first real vacation. She peered over the railing and made a mental count. Two guys near the pilot house and two more on the main deck. Three had shotguns and one had a semi-automatic rifle. Crap, crap, crap. Before she could add a fourth, she caught the sound of shouting toward the rear of the ship.

In an awkward squat, she shuffled toward the center of the deck away from the view of the pirates and crept toward the sounds. Her left hand literally itched to draw her weapon, but she was reluctant to broadcast her status beyond a simple passenger until absolutely necessary.

Around the next pillar she could see the captain's bridge. The heavy tinted windows kept her from seeing in, but she could tell that lights were on and people were moving. Now in full detective mode, Jane scanned for civilians - none. Then she checked for blind spots - the pool lockers, a stairwell. Eyes scanning in all directions, she edged forward toward the bridge. About 60 feet out the double flash of two shots sparked through the tinted glass. On instinct borne from training and trial, Jane ducked behind a trash bin and drew her weapon in one smooth move.

The cocking sound surprised the detective. It came from the gun about four inches from the back of her head.

* * *

Maura allowed herself exactly 10 minutes of loosely-contained panic then she took an inventory. Her head hurt from the hyperventilating breaths. Her nose was running. Tears continued to stream down her chin into her lap. Her shoulders ached in their pinned position. And she simply could not get her body to stop shaking.

Small break, Dennis...er, Mark...had left the cabin light on. Maura scanned around the room trying to formulate a plan, but her considerable brain cells were swimming through fog. The first priority was freeing her wrists. She struggled to her knees and used the bed to press herself up to her feet. The room was typically sparse for a cruise ship cabin. Everything was secured against the rolling wave turbulence. The desk had rounded corners to further prevent accidents.

She checked the bathroom. A wave of nausea began to build in her stomach. What am I going to do? It would be easy enough to go to another cabin and bang on the door, but that would require waking other travelers in the dead of night. She sat on the edge of the bed and caught her reflection in the mirror. With her wrist bound behind, her breasts were thrust provocatively high. In contrast, black rivulets of mascara streaked down from red swollen eyes. Nothing short of a spectacle, the doctor considered the likely response from a random stranger opening the door. She wasn't quite willing to go there yet.

A new wave of embarrassment-laced fear coursed through her body. The vision in the mirror blurred with fresh tears. Shaking arms pulled painfully against shoulders. Maura could feel her mind helplessly closing down. She slid off the bed to escape the visage of her bound, vulnerable state and tried vainly to contort into a fetal position. Golden locks of hair stuck to her face. She wretched her head to clear them and felt the impact of something under the edge of the bed. Awkwardly turning the opposite direction, a gasp of hope rang out at the sight of her discarded purse.

* * *

"Shit," Jane mumbled to herself. The handgun was pulled from her and meaty paws grabbed her by the shoulder. She was turned around toward two goons with face masks.

"Well, what do we have here?" Mocked goon #1. "A butch bitch with a gun. What's your story?"

Jane glared at him silently. She needed to learn more before she would offer a story...and she needed time to make up a story. Goon #2 grabbed her by the armpit and drug her toward the captain's bridge. As they made their way up the stairs, she could hear muffled yelling coming from the spot where shots had recently rung out. If there was one thing that Jane always counted on with criminals was their inability to stick to a plan. Inevitably, the biggest dick would be challenged by the next biggest and a team of no-gooders would be turned into two packs of snarling wolves. The best thing she could do is lay low and wait for an opening while they duked it out amongst themselves.

Of course that plan hit a pretty big snag the moment the bridge door was opened. In the middle of the room lay the body of a shipman. Not the captain, as he was tied and gagged in a nearby chair. He looked pale and nauseous, his crew mates blood pooled at his feet. Two goons were standing behind him and another two were toe to toe bickering and waving their weapons. The one with his back to Jane turned as they entered the space.

"Son of bitch!"

"What the fuck?"

Three thoughts hit Jane simultaneously. It's goddamn Dennis. Does he know I'm a cop? And where the hell is Maura?

"We found her stalking you guys on the top deck," Goon #1 offered. "She had a gun."

"Of course she had a gun. She's a fucking cop!" The alpha male spat.

"What? You know her? Shit, Mark. How many broads are you going to drag into this?" Challenged the other alpha.

"This is not an issue. The other bitch is taken care of." What? Ice coursed through Jane's veins.

"Well, I'm going to take care of this one." The brute raised his weapon.

"No," shouted not-Dennis pushing the rifle down. "You can't kill a cop. Everything changes when you kill a cop."

"That's right, you fucking piece of shit," Jane spat. Her worst fears about Maura were quickly overwhelming her. Self preservation was meaningless without her friend. And Jane with nothing to lose was reckless.

Dennis, sensing her panic, walked right up and sneered a hair's breadth from her face. "I did, as you say, fuck the piece of shit. Let's just say she didn't live up to what the package promised. Nice tits, though."

Jane immediately saw red. With lightening speed, she broke free from Goon #1 and #2 and leveled a ferocious left hook to Dennis' jaw. Not expecting the powerful southpaw, his head snapped and he dropped like a rock. Unfortunately, Jane dropped right next to him just after Goon #2's rifle butt connected with the back of her head.


	4. Chapter 4

Maura took a moment to slow her breathing. She was once again sitting on the bed facing the mirror. While the red eyes and smudged mascara were still present, she was at least covered by her purple sheath cocktail dress. She had a moments thought toward borrowing something more practical, but couldn't stomach the idea of having anything of Dennis the imposter next to her skin.

It had taken some time and trail and error to find the nail file in her purse and wedge it into the small sofa securely enough to tear through the duct tape. When her wrists had finally broke free, Maura could only stare at them in disbelief. Now, heels in hand, she took one more breath before heading out to...to what? Pull a fire alarm? Alert the deck crew? Bang on every door she passed? No...first she had to find Jane.

Plan of action locked in, Maura slowly opened the cabin door and listened intently in both directions down the long corridor. It was silent. No doubt, her poorly-chosen lover and his gang had headed off to wherever their goal was. She would bet that it wouldn't be focused on the rows of passenger cabins in the lower decks.

Maura slinked cautiously toward the stairwell and toward the room she shared with the detective. She fumbled for the key as she approached and quickly entered the suite.

"Jane?" Her voice cracked with desperation. Somehow her mind, or gut she heard Jane saying, knew there would be no answer. "Jane?!" She tried again. Her friend's bed was ruffled, but not slept in. The fitted blue dress was rumpled on the floor next to discarded black heels. Maura struggled to take in the clues. Nothing in the cabin was disturbed...then she saw it. The open door of the room's safe. Her laptop and jewelry box were tucked neatly inside. Jane's gun was missing.

"Oh god," she muttered as she moved frantically through the space. Her heels and purse were flung onto the bed in her room. Opening drawer after drawer, she snorted her frustration and ran back over to Jane's room. Nothing she had packed was remotely appropriate for whatever she was heading into. And unlike Dennis the creep, she could think of nothing more comforting against her skin than something of Jane's.

* * *

Maura was shaking again. The trauma of the last several hours was taking its toll. While she had willingly gone to that man's bed, she now felt violated and dirty. She had wanted to come back and cry in Jane's arms. Jane would have held her tight and rocked her and kissed the crown of her head...and then headed out to kill Dennis. It seemed the detective had a jump on the last part. Now Maura would have to steel her own nerves and go out after Jane.

Slipping into canvas flats and pulling on Jane's BPD sweatshirt, she once again creeped out into the quiet corridor. Maura reasoned that the danger...and likely Jane...were on the upper decks. For the hundredth time since taking the job as Chief Medical Examiner, she tried to reconcile how medical school could prepare her for the detective-by-association role that dogged her. It seemed to be the cost of friendship with one Jane Rizzoli.

The top three decks were mostly empty. Maura spotted a couple of cleaning crew tidying near a lounge and though about asking them to radio for security. The problem was she wasn't quite sure what to report. There were men with guns on board, but she had no idea where or why. So she climbed the last two flight to the top deck.

It was now about 15 minutes before sunrise. The sky was lightening, but the air was crisp and still. It took her a few minutes to orient herself. She was in the middle of the ship near the family pool. There was a constant rushing sound of water coursing through the circular slide draining into the deep end. The bar and deck chairs were all empty. Fore or aft? Faint voices drew her toward the front of the boat.

Maura crept past the center large funnel stack to the clearing near the adult pool. On her side of the ship there was nothing but open ocean. On the other side, she could see a rusty ship that looked like a foreign-made, decommissioned warship. It was massive and re-enforced, but missing the armaments. Several men dressed like those in Dennis's cabin patrolled the main deck. They were heavily armed. The scope of this predicament just ratcheted up considerably.

She stuck to the side opposite the boat and continued forward. Voices became louder near the control room. She slowed to a literal crawl, edging her way around the last stairwell under the cover of several patio tables. Two men with rifles stopping further progress.

The action was clearly building on the Captain's Bridge. There were muffled shouts that grabbed the attention of the two guards. Maura used the distraction to scoot into better coverage behind the beverage station. She heard the bridge door open and the muffled voice became clear in the still morning air.

"Goddamn it. This was supposed to be so goddamn simple."

"What are you complaining about? We got want we want. Quit bitching."

"This is more than we want. And we killed someone for fuck's sake. Now we are in for murder."

Maura shoved the back of her fist against her mouth to stifle a gasp. She felt like she would vomit from the sheer amount of adrenalin and cortisol that just dumped into her system. Jane. They killed Jane.

"We didn't kill someone, Ryan killed someone. Now we need to get moving before they find the body. Are you sure the captain is tied up tight?"

"Yeah, he's not going anywhere."

"Come on. Let's go."

The fist in Maura's mouth began to shake and she bit down hard on a knuckle. There were clanks of boots coming down the steps and softer rustles of fabric being dragged. Bags of loot? How could this all be about a common robbery? It seemed like such an ill-fitting end for her decorated detective. Fresh tears rolled down the doctors cheek.

Maura listened to the clatter and commotion as the bandits scaled over the side of the cruise ship hauling their gear. Every nerve fired for her to search for Jane, but she knew she had to stay hidden until she was absolutely sure they were gone. There was no way Dennis would let her loose again.

After an excruciating wait, the sounds of people were fully muffled by the drone of boat engines. With the cruise ship idling, she couldn't discern if the bandit boat had launched or not. Counting to 60 - in French to fully occupy her panicking mind - she slowly poked her head out from her hiding spot. As low to the ground as she was, she couldn't see if the warship was still astride. But she also couldn't wait. A too-familiar vision of a fallen Jane spurred her to move regardless.

Hunched below the railing line, Maura scurried toward the bridge and up the stairs. Her heart sank in her chest. There was blood on the steps. She wouldn't even bother to call it reddish-brown stains. It was most likely Jane's.

That damn shaking hand gripped the handle of the control room door. Maura steeled herself for the inevitable and swung it open.

Her first sight was the pool of blood and footprints scattered around the bridge floor. Maura had seen far too many crime scenes to be shocked by the chaotic gore. Her subconscious mind began to piece together the likely events, but her heart frantically scanned for the fallen detective. The trail of blood led toward the main console and up to a male body in a white ship's uniform. Maura was mortified at the sense of relief the unfortunate victim produced. It wasn't Jane.

Toward the rear of the bridge was another man in white, semi-conscious and tied to a chair. Maura could see from his epaulettes that he was the ship's captain. There was a smaller pool of blood near the leg of his chair seeping from what she suspected was a gunshot to the thigh. If it had hit the femoral artery, he would shortly bleed out. His barely lucid state meant he had lost quite a bit of blood volume already.

Regardless of her chosen specialty, she was still a doctor. She had to triage the men before she could do anything else. Moving swiftly toward the man under the console, she carefully rolled him onto his back. Glassy, fixed eyes foreshadowed the lack of pulse and early onset of rigor. He was dead. She'd worry about the details later.

Moving methodically, but cautiously, around the blood splatter, the doctor leaned over the console to step over a fallen chair. The sun cresting on the horizon drew her eyes out the bridge window. She twitched in shock - the higher vantage point gave her a clear view of the bandit's boat still off the side of the cruise ship. Tinted windows meant it was unlikely that they could see her. Armed men were purposefully moving about the boat readying it to cast off. On the bow she saw two men standing on either side of a bound and gagged woman...wait, girl. Maura could tell from the size and child-print pajamas that it was not an adult. She could also tell that the man to the right of the child was Dennis...ugh...whoever.

The fuming blonde couldn't help the snarl that formed on her lips. "That bastard!" She spat.

The sound of her voice jarred the captain and he groaned in pain. Maura turned toward him, but was reluctant to pull away from the apparent kidnapping she was witness to. Wanting to have as full of an account as possible to tell the authorities, she forced her eyes to methodically scan the bandit boat from stem to stern taking in as much detail as possible. When she reached the tail end of the boat, she yelped out load.

"JANE!"

The clearly unconscious detective was being dragged by the armpits by two armed men. A mane of dark hair obscured her face. Maura instantly turned toward the stairs. She was two-thirds of the way to the door when the captain let out another thready moan. The doctor skidded to a stop and twisted her head back and forth between the captain and the open door. She had no choice. Without her help, the captain would die.

Decision made, Maura scrambled quickly over to the regulation first aid box mounted on the wall. She grabbed as many supplies as she could and rushed over to the captain. Leaning her body up against him, she used the bandage scissors to cut the duct tape off his torso and wrists. He slumped toward her and she laid him as gently as possible onto the floor. His leg was seeping blood. The pulsing of fluid told the doctor that he had in fact been hit in the leg's main artery. Maura quickly assembled a pressure bandage and applied it directly over the wound. She elevated the leg onto the chair and tried to rouse the captain to consciousness. His blood volume was dangerously low. He needed IV fluids very soon or he was headed to shock.

Maura stood up and looked around for a radio. Somehow, she needed to get help locating the ship's own medical staff. When she chanced a look over to the bandit ship, she saw that it had begun to move away from the cruise ship. Jane was being taken away. She had to act and she had to act now. The console was filled with buttons and handsets that all seemed to be labeled with terribly unhelpful tags. Then she spotted it in the center. A red lit-up button under a clear plastic flap just like the ones that launched rockets in Jane's dreadful action films. Without hesitation, she flipped up the cover and smashed her palm against the button.

Siren's instantly filled the bridge. The loudspeaker activated with a recorded alert.

"Oscar, Oscar, Oscar. Man Overboard. This is not a drill."

She could hear the echo from speakers throughout the ship. Red klaxon lights filled her vision.

Satisfied that she had mobilized the sleepy ship, Maura checked once more on the now lucid captain and ran from the bridge. The bandit ship was buzzing with activity as the mangy crew struggled to make their get away. Though heavily armed, none seemed particularly focused on pointing weapons back at the cruise liner. Maura ran along the railing chasing the moving vessel toward the front of the ship. Of course, it was a hopeless endeavor. The bandit vessel cleared the bow picking up steam. As the rear of the boat came into view, Maura could see Jane lying prone and discarded on the deck. It was impossible to determine her physical condition. The doctor gripped the rail like a vice. Her field of vision swirled into a nauseating kaleidoscope. What was she going to do? The only thing she could do.

Maura jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

A 130-pound person takes only 1.92 seconds to fall 60 feet. The problem is, that person will hit the surface at 68 miles per hour. To survive a fall of that distance into the water, cliff divers have developed something called the _Pencil Technique_. The diver jumps out and makes his body rigid spreading his arms out like wings to adjust to a steady line. He then puts his arms straight above his head and seals them against his ears to prevent eardrum damage. He enters the water in a plank position with pointed toes and straight legs squeezed tightly together. At the moment of impact, he exhales sharply through his nose.

Maura had seen a documentary on it once.

Not too bad, she thought as plunged the 16 feet into the surprisingly warm water. At first, it was like a thrill ride. The sea seemed to suck her into its depths. An aquatic hug. However, passing the first 10 feet, pressure on her head transitioned from comforting to oppressive. Time slowed and the turbulent water churned to a stop. There was a burning sensation deep in her lungs. _Follow the bubbles_ she remembered from the dive lessons she had taken in college. Looking up she could see the sun had fully crested the horizon. Streaks of light ran in a tangent across the water's surface. She kicked and clawed at the water climbing toward the light.

Maura popped out into the air like a beach ball and was immediately hit with the wake of the accelerating boat. Having survived the fall, she nearly choked on the surge thrust directly in her face. Her hands flailed around trying to stay above the crests. There was no time to acclimate. She had a precious few moments before the bandits were out of reach.

Like the base of the Grand Canyon, she was sandwiched between the bandit boat and the massive cruise ship. The cruise ship was still and the movement of the bandit's boat was pulling her toward it. She would have to be careful not to be sucked into its propulsion system. The doctor began swimming as aggressively as she could. If nothing else, it would give her a few precious moments to think. Most ships larger than 10 meters had exterior rung ladders on the hull. She just had to find it. The problem was she couldn't stop swimming and even if she could, the water was too rough to look around.

Stroke after stroke, she moved at a full sprint. Sneaking a glance during breaths she could at least tell she was still next to the massive craft. Minutes felt like hours. As the adrenaline wore thin, her arms and legs tired and sloppy technique filled her nose and mouth with salty spit. This was just a losing proposition. Jumping into the water like some aquatic superhero was a disastrous idea. The bandit boat began to pull ahead and Maura pulled to a stop. She watched futilely as the mass of steel sailed on. "Oh, Jane," she thought just before she was clubbed in the back of the head by something stiff but flexible.

"What?" Her brain took a moment to register what it was. A massive dock line cast off in a hurry and now dragged along through the surf. The 3-inch rope slithered by like a giant sea snake until Maura shook her mental fog enough to grab it. It dragged her along for several yards. Her arms were exhausted, shaking from the exertion. The wet nylon slid hopelessly through her grasp. There was no way she could pull herself along against the friction of the surf. Her heart pounded with each foot of cordage that slipped through. As the loose end approached, she desperately tangled one hand into the rope above her head. With the other hand, she awkwardly tied a lariat loop. In a frenzy, the slight woman wretched her body forward enough to slip her foot through the circle locking it in place. She tentatively eased back until her fingertips let go. Exhausted, the doctor lay back along the surface, skimming the top like a fallen water skier. This would do for now.

* * *

The first thing that Jane sensed was the wind. There was a lot of it and it whipped her long dark brown hair against the side of her face. Even without opening her eyes, she felt like she was squinting against the bright sun. Sparkles flashed like fireworks on the underside of lids.

Then there was the massive ache coming from the back of her head. All things considered, she could find no motivation to move. She contemplated the likely cause of her predicament. She no-doubt drank way too much last night or maybe even this afternoon. She had laid out on one of the chaise lounges on the top deck and fallen asleep in the sun. Now she was dehydrated, sunburned and hung over. She could already imagine the lecture from Maura.

Maura...she was going after Maura. There were pirates on board. Maura was missing...and Dennis was a pirate.

Jane wheezed a congested snort as she struggled to sit up and sucked a strand of wild hair into her mouth. Reaching to remove it, she found her left arm was handcuffed to the railing.

"Fuck."

The rattle of the metal cuff and the expletive caught the attention of the guard standing with a rifle about 30 feet away. He turned toward her and sneered, but didn't approach.

"Hey asshole," Jane tried to muster bravado she didn't really have. "What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?"

The man stared at her blankly for a full 10 seconds and then turned back around.

"Shit."

Jane craned her sore neck to try to get her bearings location wise. There was a shock at seeing the cruise ship a fading dot some miles back. Ahead on the right was a large land mass, but the boat didn't seem to be heading toward it. The detective's brow knit at the puzzle. Where? Why? Who?

Fucking Dennis. Who they hell was he? Her stomach knotted at the thought of Maura with him. And clearly she was with him. That woman sure seemed to have a thing for psychotic men. She worried about her friend's safety, but knew that if she had really been harmed, Dennis the prick would have rubbed that in her face.

Jane leaned her head back trying to get the angle where the wind would blow her mane out of her face instead of into it. Her head throbbed. She was thirsty. The sun was in her eyes. She was being ignored.

All she could do was wait.

* * *

Six hours. By her best estimate, they had been moving for 6 hours. The sun which she had seen rise around 6am was now very high in the sky nearly directly above her head.

She approximated that the boat she was hanging from was traveling at about 23 knots. Some 20 minutes after she had secured her foot to the rope, the speed became more than she could safely tow from. Her body had been pushed by the cutting water up against the hull, but that had given her the stability to use the rope to guide her toward the rung ladder predictably mounted midship. She could not see a benefit to climbing onto the ship while they were at sea, so she fastened a climbers chair with the dock line, secured it to the steel rungs and rode quite comfortably toward their mystery destination. The curve of the hull kept her well-hidden for the time being.

Math and science were her reliable friends. If the ship had been going 23 knots and a knot represented 1.15 miles per hour and they had been traveling for six hours... assuming they were traveling on a straight path...and the cross wind was not a significant factor...she was now some 158.7 miles away from the cruise ship. That also assumed the cruise ship wasn't in pursuit. No, she thought. They wouldn't be. They had a dead crewman and an injured captain. Not to mention the 2,500 passengers. They would have sent a distress call and the immediate priority would have been to get the ship to a safe harbor. Probably Puerto Rico as it was a US territory. Maura guessed it would be a day or more before they would be focused on the culprits.

The culprits were sailing east, not south as the cruise ship had been headed. South was Aruba and the northern coast of Venezuela. East was a hundred islands of various sizes and density owned by the US, French, British and Dutch. Not a bad place to hide or at least confuse the process with extradition requirements.

With visibility on only one side, Maura had little information about where exactly they were headed. She'd have to wait it out and see how the situation developed. She knew Jane was aboard the ship. The fact that she was still alive meant that the thugs had some plan for her. Maura would just need to stay in the game long enough to find out what the plan was and how she could help Jane escape it.

She rested her head against the steel soothing herself with the vibration. This was supposed to be their vacation. She had barely been able to get her workaholic friend to take a break for a beloved baseball game this entire summer. Now they had finally taken a trip together and wound up in the middle of a crime. Jane - that woman sure seemed to have a thing for mayhem and danger.

The warm sea breeze must have caused Maura to dose off for a bit. She woke with a start when she felt the ship power down to a slower speed. Toward the bow, she could see the outcropping of an island. It was maybe a couple miles wide, and at least on this side, undeveloped. As the ship came around the tip, she could see that the island was actually in the shape of a "c" with a large lagoon easily a mile wide. This area, too, looked deserted.

They must be coming in to dock. With no cover, Maura knew her spot hanging from the hull would be vulnerable. Even if she climbed down into the water, there would be no way for her to get to shore unnoticed. With the ship slowing even more, she made the bold choice to jump now and aim for the pointed outcrop of the lagoon. She just needed to be as quiet as possible and quickly distance herself from the craft.

The doctor zipped the BPD sweatshirt tight around her neck and untangled from the rope chair. With one hand and one foot on the ladder rungs, she squatted down and pushed off into a dive. When she hit the waters surface, she swam underwater as far as her lungs would take her. She knew there was a chance they would see her when she came up for air. Her only chance was to make it to the cover of the surf and rock shore. Of course, the rocks were going to pose a problem of their own.

Like a cross between a dolphin and a frog, the determined woman surfaced for air and immediately dove back under to skim unseen beneath the surface. Swimming had never been her exercise of choice, but she was able enough to make good progress toward the outer rim of the lagoon. About 100 feet from the edge, she crossed over into the breaking waves. This time when she came up for air, a cresting swell overwhelmed her dragging her back below. She quickly lost track of up from down, tumbling under the surf. A moment of ease allowed for a frantic breath before she was sucked back under to repeat the spin cycle.

Defenseless and out of control, Maura was driven closer and closer toward the shore. Rocks submerged by the tide batted her about like a pinball machine. Elbows and knees knocked painfully against the hard surfaces. But the pain was nothing compared to the bloom of agony spreading through her chest. Scant gasps of air and giant swallows of sea water were taking their toll on her overwhelmed system. She knew she would not last much longer. Her ears ached from the garbled thunder rumbling above the surface. Then like a yo-yo, she was sucked so deep that her knees scraped the sandy bottom and flung violently forward. Sailing helplessly toward the coarse beach, the unrelenting force continued until her back collided forcibly against a stone slab. The precious remaining wind was knocked completely out of her.

Trembling with shock, she lay against the large smooth boulder as the spent waves lapped mockingly against her. The medical side of her mind wanted to assess the damage. The terrified victim side won out. With just enough determination to pull herself onto the beach, she lay her head down and quietly passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

They had dropped anchor about a 100 yards from the center of the beach and begun preparing for whatever is was they were planning to do. The crew was bustling about and even the neglectful guard had abandoned her in favor of the preparations. She could hear lots of equipment being moved but couldn't see a thing from her secured spot at the back.

Jane was a woman of action. She could barely sit at her own desk for more than 30 minutes without fidgeting. She even thought better when she moved. Pacing in front of the screens at BRIC was something her colleagues knew was an inevitable part of the process. Being held, handcuffed to boot, was the worst type of mental torture.

A boat motor kicked in and caught her attention. It was a small craft, probably an SOC-R that they were using to ferry gear and whatnot to the beach. What the hell was their game? Did they rob the cruise ship? Was this their hideout? She had to admit, it was a great spot. The lagoon provided a natural cover. The place looked uninhabited. There had to be hundreds of little islands throughout the Caribbean and there were no footprints to follow in the sea.

A half hour later she could hear the smaller watercraft returning. The Guard Goon had returned too and was making his way toward her. His rifle was slung across his back and he had a pistol drawn. It was a piece of shit Ruger. Cheap assholes.

"You are coming with me."

Wow, he could speak.

He uncuffed Jane and pushed her forward toward the bow of the boat. She could probably take this guy and his toy gun, but there didn't seem much sense in it. There was nowhere to go on the boat and they were too far from the island. While she hated to give up the opening, she had to wait for a better break.

Guard Goon led her over to the railing and shoved her toward the smaller craft. She climbed down and took a spot under the canopy. Along the way, she defiantly snagged a bottle of water. Though she tried to play it cool, he body shook with relief as the cool liquid soothed her burning throat.

Stupid-ass Dennis..Mark...whatever...came up from the cabin below. He ignored Jane. Picked up his gear bag and put a hand on the ladder to the bigger boat.

"Ok. It should take a couple of days. You have a week's worth of food." He informed Guard Goon.

"What about her?"

"She's a missing person now. Try not to kill her." He sneered her direction. "But if you have to, make sure you get rid of her body. Bury it deep or chop it up for the sharks. Just make sure she can't be found."

With that he climbed up onto the ship and disappeared. As the two goons with her prepped the small craft, the ship's motor roared to life and the anchor was pulled in. They were moving out and she was now part of the camping crew. Apparently, they were wasting no time. By the time the SOC-R made it to the beach, the ship had turned the corner from the lagoon mouth and was fading out of site.

She sat and watched as gear bags were tossed off onto the beach. Two goons on the boat with her and two on the shore. They had set up a shelter, too close for high tide, she noted. Several crates and a cooler were scattered about.

With the last of the gear off, Guard Goon headed over to her.

Jane nodded her head toward the lower cabin. "I gotta pee." She said waving the now empty water bottle.

The goon considered for a moment then curtly nodded. Jane didn't wait for a verbal response and headed down the steep stairs. Once in the head she locked the door and stared at the shiny metal square that acted like a mirror. She had only moments to come up with a plan. First thing first, she used the small sink to refill the empty water bottle and shoved it into her shorts. Surprise was her only weapon. The goon would expect her to take her time. Instead she silently disengaged the lock and crept back out.

Swiftly but quietly, she scaled the ladder to the deck and located the Guard Goon standing on the bridge. He was shocked by her quick movement and fumbled for his cheap pistol. Jane swamped him with her body knocking him back against the instruments. The gun scattered out of his hands and dropped into the opening below deck. They both froze as they watched it fall. There would be no way to race him to it.

Instead, Jane turned back toward him and punched hard. Not in the face, but to the throat. Bingo, the big guy was stunned. In a flash, she was over the side of the boat and straining against the thigh-high water toward solid land. She ignored the commotion behind her and remained laser focused on the tree line. When her feet hit dry sand, she pumped her legs frantically. Years of chasing perps would be her advantage. A gunshot rang out, but Jane wasted no time looking back. She had the edge. Oddly, she thought of a line she had always remembered from one of the endless church homilies she was forced to sit through - the fox is running for his dinner, but the rabbit is running for his life. She could never remember exactly how that related back to the Bible. Usually, she was the fox. Today she was the rabbit and the extra bit of drive propelled her into the brush well ahead of her pursuers.

* * *

The sharp echo of a gunshot bounced around the cove and roused Maura with a twitch. Every inch of her body ached and her eyes were slow to focus. How long had she been out of it? The big ship was gone and a smaller craft was on the beach near a shelter. She could see movement along the shore some quarter of a mile away. It was two of the thugs and they were headed her way. Had she been spotted? No. They looked like they were bending toward the bush. Had the girl escaped? Jane?

Maura raised herself up on shaky legs and knocked an already tender knee against a rock. She was unable to stifle the sharp cry. The men skidded to a stop and turned their focus on her. She could hear them arguing and watched with ill-timed curiosity until one of the men raised his weapon and fired. She was far enough away that they had a low probability of accuracy, but she also wasn't willing to stick around and test the odds.

Scrambling against the shifting sand, she took off toward her own section of the brush. At the tree line she ventured a look back. The men had split up and one of them was headed straight for her. Oh god. She felt a chill even in the hot and humid Caribbean sun. Maura knew there was little chance of her outrunning him.

She ducked into the heavy brush and quickly realized there would be no path for her to follow. They were on a well and truly deserted island that was thick and overgrown with tropical foliage. The ground was uneven. Roots and vines criss-crossed to create a perilous labyrinth. The thick dewy conditions made every step a slip hazard. Maura couldn't get more than 50 yards without tripping to the ground.

She could hear that the chasing man had made it into the woods in his pursuit. It seemed to her imagination that he was gaining ground very fast. The doctor changed directions hoping to confused him or shake him all together. Unfortunately, the branch of a nettle tree wrapped her up in a knot. Panicking, she thrashed about like a snared animal. This of course just made the mess worse. She was making too much noise and loosing too much time trying to untangle her dangling sweatshirt so she shimmied out of it and took off at a sprint.

She ran like a wild creature. Adrenaline healing her sore joints and propelling her forward. Regrettably, the hormone did not improve her balance. The doctor's foot caught a root and she found herself once again on the ground. This time she landed among the high buttresses of a banyan tree. With little choice left, she pressed herself flat to the ground and did her best to control her panting breathes. The tropical fowl and frogs gave an assist at covering any sound. She could hear the crunch and movement of her stalker, but to her palpable relief, it was moving away.

* * *

Jane never had a doubt that she could lose this bozo. She'd spent her entire career on the hunt and it had taught her quite a few tricks. The first of which was _get behind your hunter._ It was always easier to avoid someone you could see. These guys may have had the gear and the gumption to pull off whatever they did on the cruise, but she just didn't believe they were trained bush trackers. Then again who was she kidding? She was no Jungle Jane herself. She was a street kid who had barely ever made it outside of the Boston city limits.

Ah, but she was scrappy, she cheered herself on.

She squatted low under a grove of short palms and watched as the goon picked his way forward. He had his rifle out and was thrashing it about alternately at the vines and the pesky gnats. He looked hot and miserable. Probably a street kid himself.

Jane swatted at the bugs flying in front of her own face then reached for her water bottle. She took a long draw and held it up. Shit. She only had about a third of the bottle left. There was no telling when she would find any more water on this god forsaken island. And she had no idea how long she would be here.

Jane uttered a frustrated snort. The whole situation was ridiculous. She had no idea what she was tangled up in or even where in the hell she was. She could only hope that Maura was helping back on the ship. She would probably have hired her own squadron of helicopters by now. Jane looked up through the clearing and imagined the rescue formation from Apocalypse Now.

She also imagined Maura traipsing through wild bush in a pith helmet and khaki vest. Instead of a machete, she'd be carrying a pair of binoculars and a sample kit to collect bugs and plants and exotic slime. Even in this oppressive humidity, she knew that the doctor would have the good grace not to break a sweat. Jane smiled to herself. I bet she would look cute.

During her indulgent daydreaming, the Hunter Goon had passed her by and was now out of sight. She thought about trying to follow him, but didn't want to get herself tangled into another footrace. She needed time to scope out the island and come up with a plan. Fuck defense. She was ready to get moving on offense.

* * *

Maura continued to lay still. Even as the wet ground soaked her thin clothes. Even as the flies landed on her face. Even as the mosquitos bit at the back of her legs.

Precious fluid she could not afford to lose dripped down her cheeks. A wave of despair coursed through her. She was over her head on this crazy mission to rescue Jane. Rescue...that had never really been the plan to begin with. She just couldn't bare to be separated from her friend. She couldn't bare to see Jane sail out of her life (albeit against her will) to places unknown. Now she was the one who needed rescuing.

She wanted to go to sleep. Every part of her body had been aching. Her head had been throbbing. But now, she felt nothing. Just tired. Like if she could just allow her mind to shut down, everything would be ok when she woke. But there was a faint siren chirping in the back of her mind. She wanted to swat it away like the flies at her face, but it seemed to be getting louder.

She was trained doctor and she knew she was in severe dehydration. Her body had insufficient water volume to properly function. CSF levels were down causing the dulling of thoughts. There was a decreased ability to temperature regulate causing her to shake. Muscle oxidation was dumping acidic compounds into her blood stream causing irritability. And it was only going to get worse as she lay crying and sweating in her jungle hiding spot.

She had to get up while she still could.

Weak arms pulled her on to weaker legs. She looked around trying to decipher which direction to head. As best as she could recall from the sounds, the man who had been chasing her had moved off to the left. So to the right it was. She had to move slowly to keep herself steady and avoid falling. The doctor used hanging vines to pull herself forward. The irony was that everything seemed to be damp. But you couldn't drink damp.

Everything around her was lush green. It would have made for quite an adventure under fully prepared circumstances. But she was certainly not prepared. A flimsy t-shirt and shorts were the only thing that separated her from the ghastly series that Jane watched called Naked And Afraid. She thought back to her nude struggle in Dennis's cabin - then immediately pushed it out of her head. She needed what little concentration she had left to focus on the here and now.

What was probably an hour of walking felt like half a day. There had been no sign of a water source anywhere. Maura looked skyward for any harbinger of an afternoon shower. Clear blue. She was now mindlessly meandering forward. There were large rocks ahead and she negotiated with herself that if she could make it to them, she could take a break. It took her another fifteen minutes to make it. The sun was moving down the sky at an angle so she went around the boulders in search of shade.

When she rounded the edge, she stopped.

This area must be protected from sun for most of the day. At the base of the rocks was a swampy, muddy, green-tinted puddle. But the puddle was water. And it was a large puddle.

Before the doctor's brain could run through the list of bacteria, organisms, parasites and general filth that was most certainly floating through the liquid, she dropped to her knees and cupped her hands rapidly to her face. To the first taste, a bottle of Evian had no comparison. She closed her eyes and panted through her nose as not to obstruct the flow of cherished fluids. Riverlets of green-brown muck overflowed down her chin onto her chest.

Maura drank and drank, quenching her desperate need until the pendulum shifted the other direction and she felt herself getting sick. She leaned against the rock taking in deep breaths to clear the nausea. She had never felt such relief. The shade and the cool surface soothed her. She could rest at last.

Jane finally felt in control.

She was free from the goon squad and had the full cover of a thick tropical jungle. The assholes where camped on the beach - no doubt about to fall prey to high tide - and she could watch them until she was ready to make her next move. She just needed to pick a spot a bit further down the shore to get the best combination of angle and distance. At some point the larger ship would return. She needed to figure out what their game was before then - to break it up, or at least ensure that she wasn't abandoned once and for all on this stupid island.

The other thing she needed to think about was food and water. She'd finished the last of her bottle. Her stomach was starting to grumble. She'd be damned if she was going to try to survive on coconuts and bananas. They had plenty of rations at Camp Goon. She'd just have to wait until dark to pick a few pockets.

She didn't relish the idea of sleep. Camping was not her gig. She wanted a warm, comfy bed and the drone of traffic outside her open window...not a hard, wet sandy patch of ground and the creepy chorus of wild night creatures. _Jesus, how do I get myself into these things._

Jane continued to pick her way through the brush. As she stepped around yet another fallen tree, she saw something hanging in the brush up ahead. She cautiously approached what looked like a discarded piece of clothing. It was grey and looked like a jacket. Maybe she could use it tonight.

The detective set about freeing it from the branches. She had to carefully unhook the thorns trying not to shred the thing. After a few minutes, she pulled it free and gave it a shake. She turned it around and stared stupidly at the lettering across the chest.

Property of

BOSTON

POLICE DEPT

Athletics Division

Her eyes continued to blink as if staring at it would produce the answers she was looking for. This was hers. No doubt about that. But she hadn't been wearing it.

The blinking stopped and Jane hugged the garment with fisted hands against her chest.

It was Maura. Maura was here on the island.


	7. Chapter 7

A note on reviews: I am new to the fanfic writing (w)realm, but a longtime reader. Mostly I stick to stories that are complete because I am chronically impatient (read binge watches old TV shows on Netflix to avoid cliffhangers). For those of you who are reading as I am writing, know that my own timeline guilt presses me forward to each new chapter. It is not my style to suggest that I write for reviews or that I will hold future chapters hostage waiting for responses (you know who you are). But I must say that when you toss your words out into the digital ether, it is comforting to hear an echo from the other side of the cave even if just to prove you are not alone in the dark.

So thank you, dear echos. Messages received!

* * *

It felt like a gut punch.

The cocky bravado mask that she had so easily donned fell flaccidly to her feet. In its place stood the lanky plumber's daughter. The charlatan. The fake.

She could see the mocking face of Dennis the asshole taunting her facade of an ego.

Jane's arrogant plan to toy with the Goon Squad lay in waste. She had an Achille's Heel.

For five full minutes she stared out into the brush clasping the BPD sweatshirt to her body like a security blanket. A silent hysteria traveled outward through Jane's veins.

Maura was out there.

Her upper body spasmed almost like a hiccup and she was finally in motion. She didn't have the first clue how to find her friend, but she knew that standing still wasn't going to help. Trying to draw the analogy to a city search, she opted for finding the highest location. She remembered from what she could see on the Goon Ship that the island was like a giant croissant roll curling around the lagoon. It would be a hike and it would be away from the Goon Camp, be her only shot at real elevation lay far inland.

Jane started off at the fastest clip she could manage over all of the obstacles on the ground. She knew she was racing daylight. It wouldn't do her much good to reach the top after sunset.

As she struggled up the growing incline, she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She had been knocked out before they put her on the Goon Ship. She knew that Maura had been with Dennis the asshole who was really Mark the asshole that night. Jane snarled unconsciously remembering his lewd comments. She had been pretty sure though that he didn't have Maura with him at the time. Maybe they captured her later? How did Jane not see her on the boat? And how did she get to the island?

Clearly she had more questions than answers. The only answer that mattered in the end was how was she going to find her best friend?

It took Jane about 30 minutes to get to the ridge and about 90 more minutes to get high enough above the tree line to see anything. The sweat of exertion in the oppressive humidity stung her eyes and she would give just about anything for a hair band. Her long mane of a hairdo swept in her face more annoying than the gnats.

Eventually she hit a spot with enough clearing to take a break. She could see the aqua lagoon, but the shoreline was obscured from her view by the tall palm trees. Everything in between looked like a giant thick green carpet. It didn't look like this was going to be a fruitful plan after all.

And god was she thirsty.

At least this high up there was a bit of a breeze. Jane contemplated what her next move could be. Maybe she should try to create a big commotion. It would attract the Goons, but at least Maura would know how to come to her. No, she couldn't ask Maura to deliberately head toward trouble. Maybe they already had her? Maybe she should head back to their shelter and see if Maura was there.

Jane was staring out at the jungle when she caught movement far out and to her left. It vanished under the brush but she stared unblinking until she caught it again. She wanted to scream Maura's name from the top of her lungs, but knew the sound would just ricochet off the hills. How was she going to get the doctor's attention without putting them both in danger? Maybe she could figure out where Maura was headed.

The detective followed the periodic shaking of branches as it zig zagged through the jungle. Certainly not heading toward anything in particular. In fact, it looked like it was searching. The hairs on Jane's neck stood on end. She squinted to catch a glimpse between the trees. Finally, a break in the canopy gave her a clear view. It wasn't Maura. It was a goon.

Jane stood straight up and almost lost her footing. He was searching for Maura. She knew it. He was criss-crossing a path, but she could tell his net direction. If she headed for the middle of his course, she'd have to trust herself to find him. She began to scramble down the slope keeping an eye sharply on his location until she slipped below the tree line.

Going downhill was certainly faster than climbing, but the pounding against her knees was jarring. Jane could feel her teeth rattling with every impact. Even with the quick decent, it was going to take some time to catch up. She'd have to approximate the distance and then slow to a reasonable speed. At her current rate and sprawl, she must sound like a herd of wild boars.

With any luck, Maura was on the opposite side of the island. Then again, Rizzoli and Isles tended to be a rather unlucky pair. Reluctant to push her limits, Jane slowed from a run to a jog to a brisk creep. The constant drone of jungle noises made it hard for her to hear where the movement of the Goon was, but she counted on it covering her own sounds as well. She would have to rely on spotting the asshole first. And of course that depended on whether or not she was actually heading the direction she thought she was heading.

Ha! She spotted him.

He was about 150 yards out heading toward a large group of rocks. He was walking in a straight line now no longer sweeping the area from side to side. Fearing he had spotted his prey, Jane picked up the pace dashing from tree trunk to tree trunk. She got to within about 50 yards and was able to see a clear shot at him. He was holding a pistol out in front of him and Jane was shocked...and pissed...to see that it was her own damn gun!

The goon stopped and she was able to safely gain another 40 feet on him. He was standing directly in front of a group of tall rocks clearly looking at something but not making a move toward it. Jane chanced it and creeped 10 more feet forward behind a fallen tree trunk. From that vantage point, she could clearly see Maura in a seating position against the rocks. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open and her chest was rising and falling in uneasy breaths. Jane's heart lurched into her throat. She looked very banged up.

The goon started to move slowly toward Maura, likely hoping to catch her by surprise. As he approached, he reached around behind himself and shoved Jane's Glock 19 into the waistband of his cargo pants. The detective did not need a better invitation than that. Like a giant black panther, she lunged from behind the tree trunk and tackled him right at the kidneys. Their momentum carried them both forward and straight into the shallow pond of water in front of the rocks. Jane landed on top, but the impact sent her handgun forward into the drink. She reached for it, but the shift cost her leverage and the goon twisted beneath her. There was a flurry of hands as they both fought for control of the other. Jane knew he had the advantage in weight and strength, but she had the experience of downing many a perp twice her size.

The cannonball into the pond had roused Maura, but she wasn't going to be much help. Jane could see her cowering with eyes as big as saucers. She looked like she was trying to disappear between the crevices in the rocks.

Shoot left and turn right. Jane shifted all of her weight briefly to one side and then used his counterattack to roll him completely in the opposite direction. He was once again on his belly with Jane straddling his waist. The goon was looking above his head where the handgun had landed. He reached out and fingertips grazed the handle. There was no way Jane could reach it before him. He was straining to get a grip and the muzzle was pointed directly at Maura.

With a mighty roar, Jane let go of his arms and pressed both palms onto the back of his head. She pushed with all of her weight into the water and then further still into the soft mud at the base. The goon abandoned the quest for the weapon and flailed about in a panic. It was like riding a bucking bronco, but Jane held on tenaciously. Her scarred hands operated like a vice not giving an inch of retraction. A full minute passed and the movement of the goon's arms became less focused until there was a final twitch and she could feel the body sag beneath her. Only then did she let go.

The detective pushed herself up and stepped over the body and out of the water. Pond sludge dripped from her shirt and arms. Her ribcage rocked up and down with heaving breaths. She looked at Maura and a thousand unsaid words passed between them. At last Maura scrambled to her feet and ran toward Jane. The doctor cried out in relief as the women embraced in a full body hug.

Jane rested her head against the side of Maura's and held her firmly against her with her hand. She could feel the shuddering of the woman as she sobbed. Jane stroked her palm up and down Maura's back not yet trusting her voice to speak without cracking. After a few more moments, she felt Maura pull back to look at her face. There was something in her eyes, it looked like a combination of pain and relief.

To her surprise, her friend leaned forward and pressed her lips against hers. Jane froze unsure how to respond. Certainly Maura was under a lot of stress and she had just saved her life. She was about to chock the unfiltered move up to adrenaline when she felt Maura try to deepen the kiss to something much more.

Jane grabbed her quickly by the biceps and pushed her sharply away.

"Maura," she croaked. "What the hell?!"

The doctor stood in front of her, mouth silently open and eyes full of fear.

"What were you trying to do?" She tried again.

Maura opened and closed her mouth several times. Clearly this was not the reaction she had expected.

"I...I'm...uh," she stuttered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jane was working up a good head of steam. "You can't do that to me!"

"I'm...I'm sorry."

"Geezus, Maura. You're sorry? You fucking tried to kiss me. Not like Aunt Susie kiss, but like a real I want you kiss. You can't fucking do that to me. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Maura recoiled from the wrath of Jane's words until her back connected with the cool granite boulder behind her. They stood in silence for several minutes making no eye contact. Maura could see that Jane was fuming but she wasn't sure how to dissipate the anger. She put her hand up and slowly stepped toward her friend.

"Jane, I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I didn't mean it. Please."

The detective snapped her head up and froze Maura with a glare. "Stop. Just stop. I just fucking killed somebody with my bare hands. I need a fucking minute. Can you just...back the fuck off?"

Maura put her hands down and looked over at the unmoving body in the shallow pond. Jane was right. She had just taken another person's life in the most intimate way possible. Though she had seen the detective fire her weapon lethally on more than one occasion, the doctor could appreciate that it must be a different thing all together to literally squeeze the life from another human being.

After a couple more deep breaths, Jane twisted her body to look around them in every direction. The light was beginning to fade and it would be dark soon. With a ragged sigh, she squatted down over the dead goon's body and checked his waistband. She was able to recover a knife, a small flashlight and a compass. _What was this guy, a boy scout?_ No food. No water. She then stepped around the pond to retrieve her gun.

"Come on," she spat in Maura's general direction and headed off into the jungle.

Maura trailed some distance behind unsure of what to say or do to fix the situation. Knowing Jane as well as she did, she calculated that the best approach was to simply give her some time. Her own head was turning a mile a minute. What had she done? Why had she done it? What did it mean? What happens next? The questions came easy. The answers not so much so.

They had been walking for about a half mile. The sun had set and the light was fading to the point that it was becoming difficult to see the forest floor. Neither woman had spoken a word, but Maura could hear the hissing and snorting breaths that indicated that Jane was still mad. And her footsteps were unnecessarily stomping through the underbrush.

"Jane," she ventured timidly. "Where are we going?"

Another sigh. "Up the coast and away from those bastards for now. I'll figure something out in the morning."

Maura noted sadly that she said I instead of we. Then a thought occurred to her. "What about the girl?"

Jane stopped and turned toward her. "What girl?"

"The girl that was on the boat. The one they kidnapped. I though you would have seen her."

"Kidnapping? Is that what this is all about? Fuck. I didn't see a girl on the boat."

"I only got a glimpse of her, but she looked to be young...maybe 8 or 10 years old."

Jane let out another deep sigh and shook her head. "Great," she huffed and then headed in a perpendicular path toward the shoreline.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, I guess I'm going to try to rescue the girl," she snapped sarcastically.

Maura followed along behind Jane putting some distance between them. There was an ache in her chest and a lump in her throat. She knew these were figurative conditions, but they felt very real at the moment. Jane had broken out the small flashlight. It didn't help Maura navigate the terrain, but at least she could follow behind her stewing friend.

Maura stumbled along but tripped several times in the dark. Each time she fell to her knees, Jane would stop and huff, but make no move to help her up. After the third time, the tears began to fall. Maura had felt a great deal of discomfort over the past 24 hours, however, the physical pain was something her medical brain could process. This new emotional ache turned her inside out and left her hopeless and adrift. She struggled to move forward, but pitch black jungle and blurry tear-filled eyes were not a helpful combination.

Clearly Jane had had enough, too. She headed over to one of the island's giant banyan trees and sat down against a root.

"Let's just stop here for the night."

Maura took up a spot several feet away - at a distance, but facing her friend. The temperature had dropped considerably and her worn limbs were shaking. This only aggregated her sobbing and she brought her knees up in an attempt to hide. There was a rustle of leaves as Jane approached.

"Here," said with impatience.

Maura raised her head and swatted away the tears. Jane was holding her BPD sweatshirt out to her.

"I'm OK." Maura tried hard not to sound so obviously pitiful.

The detective exhaled yet another irritable sigh. "Maura, take the goddamn thing." She tossed the jacket at the doctor's feet and moved back to her spot. "And for god's sake, stop crying."

The complete lack of warmth in Jane's voice sliced through Maura like a razor. Quivering hands reached for the jacket and she noted the irony that it held the physical heat from her friend. She wrapped it over her shoulders and tucked back into her knees. She could not stop the crying, but she would do her best to be quieter about it.


	8. Chapter 8

Jane hated camping.

It was cold. It was damp. And it was bright at 6am.

And what she hated about camping on a tropical island was that the goddamn gnats were up before dawn!

She swatted in front of her nose hoping it would be the equivalent of a snooze button. No such luck. She was up.

Jane's body was stiff to say the least. It was hard to believe it had only been a day. And a hell of a one at that. Just over 24 hours ago, she was slamming drinks with some guys on a pleasure cruise. Now she was god knows where in the middle of god knows what and no fucking clue as to why.

Fucking Dennis the asshole. She wanted to _kill_ him.

The thought of the dead goon immediately invaded her thoughts. She tried to push it away, but it seeped into the cracks of her mental barricade like a fog. She never, ever imagined that she could go that far. She took a man's life. Not from the polite distance of an alleyway shootout. No, she actually felt the life leave him. And she let it.

Sure it was self defense...well, actually it was in defense of Maura... _Urgh_ , she groaned. More unwelcome thoughts. What was she going to do about Maura?

As if on cue, the honey blonde stirred with a moan. Jane got up on her knees to check out the spot on the far side of the tree that her friend had opted for. Maura was huddled in a fetal position. Her body was shivering, but Jane could see that the sweatshirt she had pulled around her was damp with sweat.

Not that anyone could look good after a night on the jungle floor, even perfect Maura, but Jane had to concede that the doctor really did look the worse for wear. What exactly had she been through in the last 24 hours? Well, for one thing, she had slept with the asshole who was responsible for them being here.

Jane could feel the heat of anger spreading through her veins. It was all just too much. Her chest contracted with stifling anxiety and she knew she had to get moving, had to focus on something, or she'd be lost to the emotional flood.

"Maura, come on. Get up." She growled. When the woman didn't stir, she shouted, "MAURA!"

The doctor jumped with a start and struggled up onto an elbow. Her eyes were unfocused and the question on her face telegraphed disorientation. When she made eye contact with Jane, however, there was the resignation - a remembering that lines had been crossed from which there apparently was no return.

Maura strained to rise to her feet. She wouldn't venture to say anything. There didn't seem to be a point. Jane started off into the brush and she followed compliantly behind.

* * *

They had progressed almost to the edge of the tree line when Maura doubled over to vomit. There was nothing in her stomach, so the net result was just a dry heaving.

"Shhh!" Jane reprimanded looking quickly back and forth between Maura and the breaks of sunlight toward open shore. Surprise was essential to her flimsy plan.

Maura would do her best to be quiet, but the abdominal cramping had a mind of its own. When the worst of it passed, she silently indicated that she was ready to move on.

They crept forward until they were behind the rim of trees lining the beach. The pair was still about 300 yards up the coast from Camp Goon, but Jane wanted to take a few minutes to recon before they made a move.

She shook her head when she saw their state of affairs. Just as she had predicted, they had set up camp too close for high tide. It must have come in after dark, and they had to scramble to react. The shelter was in a tangled mess lying in the sand. To Jane's extreme frustration, several of the supply crates were now floating in the middle of the large lagoon.

It was early. She couldn't see any activity. First thing was to get a fix on the goons. Not counting dead goon, she could remember that there were three others who had stayed behind. And Maura had said there was a young girl.

Jane's stomach soured. Cases with kids sucked...and any mix between adult men and young girls was a disaster in waiting.

She looked back at Maura and sighed. Her first thought was to leave her here, but without a count, she couldn't be sure that one of the goons wasn't prowling around the jungle in search of them. Besides, she might need a doctor for the girl. Not the Maura looked like she would be up to much doctoring. The woman was tight-lipped and breathing heavily through her nose. That meant she was still nauseous, very angry or trying some new meditation technique. Jane snorted, maybe she was angry about being nauseous and trying to meditate her way through it.

She was also hunkered down about 50 feet away. Jane couldn't exactly blame her for that. She knew she'd come down on her pretty hard last night. _Urgh_...bad thoughts again. The detective shook her head and rose from her crouch.

"Come on. We need to get closer. But we have to be quiet. If you're going to wretch, try to head back into the woods to do it"

Maura nodded lethargically and followed behind.

* * *

Two of the goons, were sleeping in the shade of the tree line against duffle bags. Jane swore under her breath. The girl that Maura had mentioned was at a nearby palm tree. She was in the full sun. Her hands were pulled back and tied behind the tree. Jane could see red marks on her face. Her wide eyes looked distress and the detective realized she was staring straight at her. She instinctively stepped forward. Despite putting her hands up in front to try to calm the girl, she squawked with a nervous yelp.

"Shut up, bitch!" One of the sleeping goons barked and kicked out violently. His boot connected with the girl's knee and she squawked even louder. This of course woke the other sleeping goon.

Jane was already in motion. Her gun was drawn and sweeping back and forth between the assholes. She had a good position on the two of them, but no idea where the third was.

"Maura, watch my back," she whispered to her provisional partner.

Jane recognized one of the goons as the chap she smacked in the neck. He looked like he was ready to settle a score. He reached very slowly down toward his hip and nodded to his partner to move up the beach.

Goddamn it, Jane cursed. These guys actually had some skills. They were splitting her field of vision. Their hands were close enough to their weapons that she could not shoot one without allowing the other to draw his weapon and get a shot out toward her. The further apart they got, the less time she would have.

"I see you got your gun back," snarked the one on the right. "I don't imagine that Patrick gave it up willingly."

Jane ignored him. She needed to rely on her training and years of experience to find the opening an act quickly...but then several things happened, seemingly all at once.

The goon on the right had shifted far enough to be in front of Maura who was still undercover of the bush. Maura leaped from her position and grabbed him around the chest. She didn't have enough strength or body weight to knock him flat, but she caught him off guard enough to stop his progress. Simultaneously, the goon on the left near the girl fell prey to her outstretched leg and tumbled to the sand partially on top of her.

This was the opening she had been waiting for, but both goons were unclear shots. Possibly hit the girl? Possibly hit Maura?

Her decision was made when the goon on the right tossed Maura to the ground like a ragdoll. As he went for his own gun, Jane fired two tight shots directly in his chest. He dropped like an anchor.

"JANE! BEHIND YOU!" Maura yelled from behind the body.

The detective turned to see mysterious Goon #3 approaching the bow of the SOC-R with a rifle. This clearly wasn't his weapon of choice and he took a moment to futz with it. Meanwhile left side goon had recovered and drawn his weapon, too. Jane took a shot at the boat, but he had distance and cover. Left side goon took a shot at Jane which whizzed alarmingly close to her head.

"Maura, stay flat!" Jane commanded and moved so that the doctor would be out of line with any more shots taken at her. Not an easy triangulation with two separate gunman.

The rifleman on the boat had gotten his bearings and fired. Jane knew he was not going to be effective with a moving target so she made a dash for the tree line. Sending a cursory shot toward the goon on the beach, she was careful not to come near the girl who was now crying loudly...as if the situation needed more chaos.

Jane made it to cover and tried to take in the scenario. Her priority had to be the goon on the left side of the beach. While he wasn't likely to harm the girl, she couldn't let me take her as a hostage. He also had a fairly clear shot at Maura who was still huddled down behind the body of right side goon.

Left side goon fired at her twice. She fired back once at him and once at the boat to keep the rifleman off balance. The detective also had to keep her shots in mind. A Glock 19 held 15 shots. She'd rattled off a third of that already and wasn't event certain that she had started with a full magazine.

The goon with the rifle let loose another shot. It hit the edge of the tree in front of her and sent a piece of the trunk flying back into her arm. Jane yelled out. This caused Maura to raise her head and the goon on the beach to turn his weapon on the doctor. Jane immediately swung her gun towards him and aimed at the side furthest from the crying girl. She hit her mark and the goon spun around holding his side.

Now it was getting serious and he had apparently calculated the score. Jane had killed two of the men and wounded him. Blood was pooling through his jacket and panic was setting in. He crouched down and began retreating toward the water.

"JASON. COVER ME!"

Jane had to take shelter as both men leveled a consistent barrage of shots randomly into the jungle. She knew the hurt man was bugging out and that they would likely make their escape on the boat...her only way off the island. But at the moment she could only prioritize keeping Maura and the girl safe.

Eventually the tandem shots turned into just the rifle and Jane could hear the splashing of water. She shifted from her shelter to see them rev up the motor and start to move out. There was nothing she could do but watch.


	9. Chapter 9

The warm sun felt good on her back. Unlike the hard ground and stiff tree roots that were her bed last night, the sand conformed to every curve of her body relieving the ache of pressure points. The crash of waves against the shore produced a soothing rhythm that lulled her into peace. She felt good.

"MAURA! Goddamn it, I need your help!"

The unmistakeable voice of her best friend broke through the mind fog and tapped her on the shoulder. Her dreamlike state was recessed as if sucked away by a powerful vacuum. The physical pain and the mental stresses came flooding back in its wake. She no longer felt good.

Maura raised her head and blinked against the now full sun. Her tired limbs pushed against the sand until she was sitting back against her heels. The first thing she registered was the body laying in front of her. The man had bled out considerably from the two chest wounds. The doctor surmised that Jane's excellent aim had hit either the heart or a major artery.

Jane, herself, was about 60 feet away near a palm tree where the young girl was still tied and crying hysterically. Her gun was in her waistband so Maura knew that the immediate danger must have passed. She looked around the beach but couldn't get a bearing on where the other aggressors had gone.

"Maura, get over here."

Jane was standing a few feet from the tree with her hands out in the universal I'm not trying to hurt you pose, but the girl seemed to be having none of it. She was pressed firmly against the tree with her knees protectively up. Her head was turned away and she was sobbing. Jane looked exasperated.

"She won't let me near her. She's acting like **_I'm_** the bad guy."

Maura put her hand on Jane's forearm but she pulled it away. The rejection caused Maura to sigh sadly, but her head was already foggy and she had to push her current feelings away in favor of the immediate issue.

"Jane, she saw you firing a weapon. You have been yelling quite a bit and your face looks full of anger." Just then, the doctor caught sight of Jane's other arm and she sucked in a breath. "Were you hit?"

"No, it was just shrapnel from a tree. I'm OK."

"No, you are not! Blood is running all down your arm. No wonder the girl is so scared."

Maura had come around to the wounded side of Jane and was inspecting the gash. Her fingers were so gentle. They delicately ran under Jane's upper arm and grazed against the side of her chest. The feel of lips against hers flashed unbidden through Jane's mind. She yanked her arm free and took two steps back.

"Please don't touch me," she growled through gritted teeth.

Maura looked at her with a combination of hurt and confusion. Jane could see her processing several options in response but finding none she was willing to say out load. The detective just couldn't get caught up in this particular distraction right now.

"Look, I'm fine," she snapped. "You go deal with her."

The doctor looked back at Jane's arm and took three full breaths. Apparently resigned or at least in fear of more rejection, she nodded and turned away.

* * *

Maura approached the young girl cautiously and explained who she was and what she was going to do. Her kind face and soothing voice did much to calm the frightened girl. In no time, she had her untied and on her feet. The doctor glanced at the dead man on the beach and led the girl to a fallen tree trunk in the opposite direction. The two of them talked quietly while Jane busied herself with the mess that was the camp.

The first thing she did was drag the dead body over to the tree line. She had considered just covering him with the destroyed shelter, but she had no idea how long they would be on the island and everything looked like a potential resource they may need. She searched his pockets. There was the gun he had never had a chance to draw, some money, another compass and flashlight, cigarettes. A bandana was stuffed in his back pocket. Jane used that to awkwardly tie around the wound on her arm. On her way back, she kicked the blood soaked sand to hide the gory trial. No need to remind everyone how deadly this whole mess had gotten.

Next, she needed to see what exactly they had in terms of provisions and to figure out what they were going to do if the goon squad returned. She didn't imagine the goonies had left a fully charged radio with instructions for contacting the nearest populated island. Right now, her expectations we simply around food and water.

There were two hard pack crates still on the beach. The first one was filled with food. Crap food. Mostly beef jerky and protein bars. There were also several packets that looked like military MREs. The rest was mess kits and a couple of travel camp stoves. At least they would have fire. The second pack held random gear - a med kit which she grabbed and set aside, ropes, rain gear, a tripod chair, another tarp. No radio, no flares and more critically, no water.

Jane walked over to the edge of the surf and looked out into the lagoon. There looked to be three of the watertight crates floating in the tide. She estimated they were already about a quarter of a mile out. She wasn't a swimmer. She could swim for sure, but she wasn't sure how far she could go or how well she would do against a tide. Looking down at her arm, she smirked and shook her head. How smart would it be to head out into the open ocean with a bleeding arm? Not very, she concluded and squatted down to rinse the drying red streaks from her forearm and hand.

The detective next took her search over to the two duffle bags the goons had been using as pillows. Nestled in the sand were two partially filled water bottles. The duffles, themselves, had nothing but disgusting goon clothes. Frustrated, she grabbed the two bottles and headed toward Maura and the girl.

Maura put her hand on the girl's knee as the detective came near. She didn't want the gruff woman to undo all of the good will she had just managed to foster in the young child. Jane handed them each a bottle of water. The girl wasted no time in opening the cap and drinking the entirety of the contents in several gulps. Maura looked at her bottle and then up at Jane with the obvious question on her face. The return look said enough. Despite her ravaging thirst, Maura took a couple of small sips and then handed it back.

"Jane, this is Sarah Markey. Her father is Senator Ed Markey. She was on the cruise with her grandparents."

"Hi Sarah," Jane tried to sound a little more approachable. "You are safe now."

"What if those men come back?" Sarah asked in a small voice.

"I'm going to get us somewhere safe before they do." The look on the girl's face clearly said that she had hoped Jane would say was that they would never be coming back.

Jane was about to ask the child about her father when Maura rose quickly from the tree trunk. Her brow was knit in pain and her jaw was clenched. The doctor stumbled awkwardly to the tree line and dropped to her knees with a violent retch. The little bit of water she had just put in her stomach was voided followed by several more dry heaves.

The pain of stomach cramping was terrible. Her skin was clammy. She was sweating and shivering at the same time. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, every muscle tensed and hoping for the wave to pass. She was already weak from having fasted for the last 24 hours. Her blood sugar was extremely low and she was certainly dehydrated. She didn't know how much more she could take.

Then Maura felt the palm of Jane's hand soothe up and down the middle of her back. It almost made her cry. It was the first act of kindness from her friend since they had reunited. The long slender fingers were so familiar, so reassuring. She wanted to soak the comfort into her pores, but the bilious spasms gripped her fiercely and she doubled over again.

Minutes felt like hours. Thankfully, Jane stayed by her side until the worst subsided. She even allowed Maura to hold tight to her arm and rest against her shoulder as she panted through deep breaths. But the impatient woman eventually extracted herself. Jane offered the water bottle to Maura, but the doctor waved her away for fear of triggering another attack.

"OK. Stay here and rest a minute while I figure out what to do."

She saw Jane head toward the girl. They spoke for a few minutes and the girl came toward her and sat down. She was quiet, but even just the company helped to distract Maura from the pain. Jane was moving around in the sand gathering up the scattered supplies. She wanted to watch. She wanted to help. But her eyes closed against her will.

* * *

Jane looked down at the doctor lying quietly curled into herself. The girl...Sarah...was holding her hand in her lap. Jane knew this wasn't a good scenario. Of course she had no idea what was wrong with Maura. She imagined it was some rare tropical disease and she had no idea how to help. From her own condition, she knew that they were getting desperate for water and that Maura had to be the worse off with her vomiting.

"Sarah. I have to get Maura into the shade. I set up camp of sorts in the clearing over there with all of the gear I could find."

The girl moved out of the way as Jane squatted down to lift the unconscious doctor. Jane was definitely physically fit, but Maura probably had a couple of pounds on her and was laying limp on the sand. It wasn't an easy task for Jane in the best of circumstances. She let out a grunt pulling Maura up into her arms.

It was the same struggle lowering her down onto the tarp without dropping her. She managed with some strain, but when she released the blonde, she could see the blood once again dripping down her arm from the re-opened gash. Jane careful positioned Maura's head onto a rolled up shirt from the duffle bags that she had fashioned into a pillow. She took a moment to tuck the loose strands of dirty blonde hair out of her face. From the "v" in her oversized sweatshirt, she could see bruising on Maura's chest. There were scrapes and scratches on her collar bone neck and chin. Jane's fingertips grazed over them softly. She vowed to put ointment from the med kit on them as soon as they were settled.

The detective felt the little girl's eyes on her and looked over at her sitting on one of the duffle bags. Jane's raised an eyebrow in question.

"I thought you didn't like her," the girl observed innocently.

Jane took a moment to respond. "Yeah, well. It's complicated."

There was no way that Jane was going to add a heart to heart conversation with an 8 year old to her list of current priorities. Instead, she stood up and briskly walked down to the water to once again clean the blood oozing from her arm.

The cold surf felt refreshing, but the salt stung the open lesion in her arm. And there was sand everywhere. Even in Boston, Jane hated going to the beach just because of the sand. It got everywhere and made her whole body feel like sandpaper. She kicked a big wad of it into the air and the ocean breeze blew it mockingly back into her face. Wiping the grit from her lips, she looked out again at the blue-green lagoon. The crates were moving further out to sea. She had no clue what was in them. Worse yet, she'd only be able to get one of them back to shore at the best. No guarantee any of them even had water in them. It was a life or death shell game.

Decision made, the detective stomped back up toward the camp.

"Here," she handed the wet bandana to the girl. "I need you to tie this as tightly as you can around my arm."

Sarah did as she was told. Jane took off her shoes and handed the girl her water bottle.

"If Maura wakes up, try to get her to drink a little bit of this. She may not want to, but her body really needs it. I'm going to swim out into the lagoon and try to get another one of the crates back here. It might take me a while."

The look on the girl's face cut Jane to the quick. This was certainly too much for her young mind to have to take in. There was a question on her face that she looked frightened to ask. Jane squatted down to her level and took the small hands in hers. This whole affair had her off her game and she was losing touch with her own humanity.

In a meek voice, "I...I have to use the bathroom."

Before she could even think, Jane pulled the child into a hug. "Oh sweetie. It's OK. It's OK. I'm so sorry for all of this." She held her back by the shoulders. "There is not much I can do to help. Why don't you do your best over in the woods. I'll stand watch and stay with Maura until you are back. I'll even find you some clothes to change into."

* * *

About 15 minutes later, Jane once again stood staring out at the giant lagoon. She'd managed a passable set of shorts and t-shirt for the small child and broken out some food which the youngster tore into. There was no telling how they had treated her since they yanked her off the ship in her pajamas. Jane had wanted to ask how she was taken and if her grandparents were hurt, but she just couldn't bring herself to upset the child and she couldn't afford to wait any longer on her unpleasant task.

With a deep sigh, the lanky woman plowed out into the waves. She was able to walk through the breakers for about 100 feet before the depth put her into a swim. She cautiously touched a foot down into the sand after every few waves just to reassure herself. Her heart sank into her stomach when she hit the edge of the shoal which led to a drop off well beyond her reach. Now she was in open water. The waves here were mostly swells, but the current made her feel like she was swimming two feet forward and being pushed a foot back. And now she had a decision to make. The three crates were spread fairly evenly on the horizon. In the rough water, there wasn't a chance to open it in the lagoon without risking sinking it. She'd have to pick one and drag it bag to shore. Left, right, center. She picked center thinking that there was the slimmest of chances that the ones on the outer edges could be hooked back into the lagoon at the points.

Now it was mind over matter. The water was warm but deep enough now that she couldn't see anything below the surface. Against her will, the drone of footage from one of the shark week programs she'd made Maura watch with her raced through her head. Sharks are very interesting from the comfort of a high and dry couch. She remembered asking the doctor if she's ever autopsied a shark attack victim. Maura had answered by rattling off the statistics in the cape cod area over the last 25 years. None of it was comforting to her now.

To make matters worse, the rough chop made it difficult for her to track the crate from her sea level vantage point. She'd catch a glimpse of it and swear it was getting further and further away.

After what felt like an hour of swimming, she ventured a look back at the beach. That was a mistake. She had to stop and tread water for a few minutes to settle her nerves. She was very far out and still very far from the crate. Jane could feel her heart racing with the threat of a panic attack. Maybe she should turn back while she still thought she could make it.

No. People were counting on her.

Maura.

Maura had kissed her.

Great. Jane thought to herself. Trade one terrifying thought for another. The adrenaline coursing through her took a left turn, but at least it helped her to keep moving. She swam off toward the crate with ferocious strokes letting anger propel her. Long arms swung in great arcs. Longer legs kicked like an outboard motor. It was not unlike taking her ire out on a punching bag. She counted the rhythm of her breaths until she hit 100. When she looked up again to spot her line to the crate, she was relieved to see that she had made measurable progress. She was now much closer to the object than she was to the shore. Digging down into another 100 strokes, she zeroed in on her goal.

The last 50 feet were the hardest. Jane could swear that the tide was pulling her backwards. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her muscles burned just as hot. When her arm finally swung onto the hard plastic, she yelled out her victory to the seagulls overhead.

The object was about two feet wide and four feet long. It was riding about 10 inches out of the water. Jane's first hope was to jump onto it, but she was afraid that the submerged seal would leak and the crate would sink. For the next couple of minutes, she was content to just rest her head and upper body on the edge.

Eventually, the realization that each minute of rest would lead to another minute of maneuvering the crate toward the shore turned the tide on her fatigue. Experimenting with different techniques, she settled on holding one of the handles and dragging the crate behind her as she did her best with one arm stroking and legs kicking below.

The return trip was certainly more arduous than the swim out. Jane was fighting the drag on the heavy square object in addition to the pull of the out going tide. She looked up at the sun to try to gauge the time. It was certainly well past noon. Maybe the tide would be heading back in soon and she would get a boost? _I bet Maura has the tide tables memorized_ , she thought wistfully.

Not unlike running a marathon, when the body is pushed far enough, it eventually gives up on complaining. Jane was basically in that mindless state where her limbs just kept moving without instruction from her brain. But she could tell that her arm stroke was getting sloppy and her kicks were less efficient. The shoreline warped away from her like a scene from Vertigo. Still she kept going.

To her own amazement, she eventually made it to the point where the incoming waves began their crest. The building up and down as the swells gained momentum felt like some mad roller coaster ride where she was outside of the car. Jane was spun around and left hanging onto the crate as it dragged her through the growing surf. The swirling saltwater rushed into her face and she choked for breath. Ten feet further and the wave broke over the top. The thundering whitecap tumbled the crate ripping it free from her grasp. For twenty more feet, she and the hard object were tossed against each other. Then the heavier piece was banked against the shore and she was pulled mercilessly into the water by the powerful backwash. She scrambled onto her knees gasping for air only to have her weary body knocked back to the sand by the next incoming wave.

Like a scene from some high seas adventure, Jane literally crawled out of the lather and collapsed onto the dry sand.

* * *

If she had had her druthers, the spent detective would have lain there until sunrise the next morning. But young Sarah had other plans. She was running down the beach holding up her oversized shorts and waving with enthusiasm. Some part of Jane had to appreciate the welcoming committee.

Not wanting to worry the youngster, Jane drug herself up and began shaking of the dreaded sand pasted to her wet torso.

Sarah skidded to a halt to scrutinize the plastic box wedged into the sand. "What did you find?"

Jane shook her head. "I have no idea."

Sarah jumped up and down excitedly next to the back of the crate while Jane bent over to work on the fasteners locking down the top. After some muscling, she cracked the seal open and lifted the lid. Eager to see the bounty, Sarah was startled when the tall woman suddenly dropped bonelessly to her knees. Unable to read the detective's expression, the little girl rounded the crate to see for herself.

That's odd, she thought. It was filled with bottles of water.


	10. Chapter 10

_Oh, crap!_ Maura thought to herself. She had really thought she was only dreaming...or rather that this was only a nightmare. She had read a peer-reviewed article supporting the ability to sense smell while asleep, but the screeching of the tropical birds, the oppressively humid air and the pounding in her temples were certainly products of the waking world.

There was also a moaning in the distance. It sounded muffled but desperate. She struggled to discern if it was coming from a human or an animal. She would look around if she could manage to open her eyes. Unfortunately, very little of her body seemed to be responsive to commands. She was curled on her side. Her hands were tucked into her chest and her knees were pulled up seemingly to protect her stomach. She felt a rolling wave of spasms building in her core. At the same time, that awful, distraught moaning grew so loud it vibrated the inside of her head. The wave of pain receded and the groaning followed. Finally, Maura understood. The sound was coming from her.

Before she could reconcile the meaning with reality, she felt hands moving around her. Someone was touching her face. There was a hand on her back. She sucked in a shuddering breath at precisely the wrong moment. Her mouth had been filled with water and her panic response was to gasp. The liquid was sucked into her trachea and straight to her lungs. She was drowning.

* * *

 _Oh, crap!_ Jane handed the bottle to Sarah and struggled to pull the choking blonde upright. She didn't mean to drown her, but the moaning was getting worse and she knew she had to get some liquid into her friend or she may never wake up. It wasn't like she could fashion an IV out of coconuts and bamboo.

She was able to sit Maura up and pat her sharply on the back until she coughed out the water in her lungs. She tucked the weary blonde under her arm in a sort of half hug.

"Maura, honey. I'm sorry, but I have to get some water into you. You are always telling me when I feel crappy that is it dehydration. I think if you can drink this, you'll feel better." She motioned for the girl to hand Maura the water.

The blonde nodded weakly and took the plastic bottle between shaky hands. The first couple of sips were taken cautiously, but they were followed by longer drafts until the doctor had downed everything. Jane offered her a second bottle, but she waved it off.

"Do you think you know what is wrong with you?" Jane asked. "Is it something like malaria or yellow fever?"

Maura cleared her throat. The simple act seemed to take quite a bit out of the fragile woman. Her voice was thready and she didn't even bother to look up from the nook of Jane's arm.

"I can't say for sure, but there are a few potentials."

Jane smiled. Of course the woman who wouldn't call a blood spot a blood spot without a mass spectrometer wasn't going to guess.

"I believe I ingested something yesterday afternoon. I had not had any water and I took the chance to drink from a questionable source."

"So like a stomach bug or something? Will that just pass?"

"There are still several possibilities...cryptosporidium is a mesenteric parasite. Bad, but probably not fatal."

"OK," she knew her friend's scientific mind too well. "What's the bad possibility?"

"Hepatitis E."

"Okaaay...how do we decide if it is that?"

"Jaundice...liver failure causes the build up of a blood cell byproduct called bilirubin...that gives the skin and whites of the eye a yellow tint. If you see that..." Maura suddenly pushed away and looked at Jane with wide eyes. "Jane...you have to get away from me. Hepatitis is highly contagious."

"Maura, you don't even know if you have it."

"Oh no...no...I'm so sorry." She seemed to be suddenly talking to herself. "What have I done?"

"Calm down. Shhh...It's OK. It's not like you sneezed on me or anything."

Maura put her hands up to her own face, fingertips grazing her lips. "No...much worse...I...I kissed you."

There was a very stale pause. Maura stared at Jane. Jane stared at her hands. Sarah shifted her gaze back and forth between the two women. If it weren't for the crashing waves, wild parrots and cicadas, you could have heard a pin drop. Jane sighed and chose eye contact with the kid over the doctor. Sarah's face was a blending of innocence and mirth. She suspected the 8 year old was more savvy than she let on.

The detective stood and looked out through the palm trees. Her voice was distant. "It's probably just the crypto-bug thing." Then she walked silently out toward the beach.

Maura and the girl sat for a few quiet moments before Sarah began to fidget and Maura had to lay back down. The water was definitely helping, but she feared the rolling cramps in her stomach might be the precursor to more vomiting. If she could just lie still for a bit, maybe the fluids would have a chance to enter her system. She could hear Sarah kicking at the dirt. With more effort than it should have required, Maura open one eye to look at her.

"You like her, but she doesn't like you."

Maura cracked a bit of a mental smile. She found young kids to be familiarly straightforward. Not unlike the literal scientist, their worlds were binary - black and white, yes and no, friends or not friends. If only everyone operated in that space.

"It's complicated."

The little girl snorted her displeasure at that answer. "Adults always say that."

The tone was clear. The little girl recognized when she was being given the brush off. Perhaps it was her own history of being dismissed that brought Maura back to the conversation.

"I...I betrayed her trust. I...I did something I shouldn't have."

"Can't you just say you are sorry?"

"I can...I did. But...she sees me differently now...and I don't think that will ever change."

"So that means you can't be friends anymore?"

The innocence of Sarah's conclusion cut Maura to the quick. Tears flowed unbidden and her throat tightened. Again, she wondered at how much everything had changed in the span of just two days. Carefree friends...playful banter...casual flirting. Single tears became a steady flow. The furrowing of her brow inflamed the tension headache already pounding at her temples. Maura fumbled the zipper on the BPD sweatshirt

tight around her chin and rolled over to put her back to the young girl.

* * *

It was after sunset, but before dark when Jane returned back to their camp. Despite the energy drain from her marathon swim, she had found herself pacing the half mile back and forth in front of their hideout, her lithe body buzzing with coiled energy.

She hated that Maura could do that to her so quickly. It was the very opposite of what she counted on from her friend. Maura was her safe spot, her diffuser...no matter what crazy volatile mood she was swinging though, Maura would bring her back to center. Jane counted on that.

Maura was supposed to be steady. She was a wall that Jane could push against and know it would always hold. She was reliable, consistent, predictable. What you saw was what you got...now all Jane could do was look back at years full of _friendship_ moments and wonder. She felt like an idiot. And that made her mad.

Sarah was leaning against one of the trees playing with a compass. The doctor was laying still with her head facing away. Regular breathing suggested she was asleep again. A pang of guilt was followed by thankfulness that the girl had opted to stay with Maura. Jane knew she probably shouldn't have been gone as long as she was.

"Hey, kid. You hungry?"

Jane opened the gear crate and took out the camp stove and a propane tank. Again, she was reminded that camping was not her thing. Though they were considerably better off than last night, primitive survival techniques was not part of her repertoire of skills. And if she didn't get a move on, she'd be attempting their first meal in the dark.

"What does MRE mean?"

"It stands for Meal-Ready to-Eat. It's like a military field ration, a full meal and dessert." The detective perked up. "Hey, if I remember right, there is even some toilet paper in there."

About an hour later, they were awkwardly eating reconstituted chili mac by flashlight. Given the caliber of the dish, Jane thought the less light to see it, the better. Still, given their calorie count over the last 48 hours and the rapidly dropping temperature, a hot meal of any kind was a welcome sight.

Jane had fished a blanket out of the supply crate to cover Maura. The suffering woman was still asleep and Jane was reluctant to push food on her and risk a long night of cramps and vomiting. Best to try that experiment in the daylight of morning. She got Sarah set up on a pile of clothes and then settled herself in a semi-seated position at the foot of Maura's mat. She needed to be close in case...well, just in case.

* * *

Morning came and brought with it the beginning of a routine of sorts. They tidied up the camp area and hung the dew dampened items out in the sun to dry. Jane was elated to discover that the MREs contained instant coffee. It certainly made the protein cakes easier to eat. She also had to hand it to Sarah. After their initially rocky start...which Jane had to concede warranted some crying, the girl proved to be pretty hearty given the circumstances.

She helped to go through the crates and sort out what they had and what they needed. They went through the food and water rations to see how long they could comfortably stay on the island. And after one afternoon's surprise rain shower, the two worked together to string the largest tarp over their makeshift camp. It was even Sarah's idea to rig it to collect rainwater. Well, the idea was hers, but the engineering was left up to Jane. She tied it with a dip in the middle and a slope toward the beach. Then she lined up one of the waterproof crates to catch the pour. Once they were done, the two could hardly wait for the next rain to test their scheme out.

Jane also let Sarah explore a little bit around the camp. The rule was that the girl could go into the jungle counting to 100 and then she'd have to hurry back and check in. She was out looking for fresh fruit to add to their freeze dried and jerkified meals. Sarah would bring back what she found and they'd wait for Maura to wake up to ask if it was edible.

Maura.

She was slipping steadily downhill each day.

Jane was able to help her up walking the first day and even get a couple of bottles of water in her. But food was another matter. Maura had tried to eat a bit for lunch and thrown up so violently that she slept until the following morning. The second day, she would drink, but refused any food at all. She was awake less and less and suffering terribly when she was. While Jane took every roused moment to try to get her to drink, she welcomed the long naps if only to see the lines of pain dim on her friend's face.

The first couple of days were filled with activity that could easily occupy the detective's busy mind. The hard labor and the humid heat made for an early and exhausted sleep. But by the fourth day, things that needed to be done had been done. Sarah had explored every place she could within her 100 count. Restlessness was creeping in. And restlessness led to wondering.

"What are we going to do?" The youngster questioned simply.

Jane let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know. I was really hoping that a fishing boat or a tourist group would come by. I just don't know how remote this island is. We could be a hundred miles from the next nearest one."

Jane slipped back into quiet contemplation. Sarah, in her innocence and adventure, seemed to take that information in stride. She bounded over to the woman and plopped down across from her holding up her treasure.

"Hey, do you want to play cards?"

Truthfully, it was the last thing on Jane's list. But there was little else to do and her mind was getting nowhere on the "how" of escape. She scooted back to make room between them and waited while the kid shuffled and dealt. They were on their second hand of _Go Fish!_ when they heard the first drops of rain hit the overhead tarp. About 30 seconds later, it was a full tropical downpour. Sarah was elated that the cover held and when the first rivulets of fresh rain water began to drain into their container, even Jane jumped up to celebrate. She danced up and down in their wonderful dryness with the little girl then spun around with the intent of boasting about her accomplishment to Maura. Her body instantly sagged like a deflated balloon. Her friend was completely out but shaking either from fever or chills or both.

Jane's shoulders bowed, and she dropped to her knees. She cautiously reached out a hand to push the matted blonde hair from a sweaty brow and feel her temperature. Maura was very, very hot.

Jane looked at her friend and felt the walls closing in on the inside of her brain. It was as if her life compass had crossed paths with a powerful magnet and she could no longer see north. The unambiguous kiss from Maura was a shock to her system. At first she was angry. Then she didn't know how to feel or how to react or how to even engage with Maura. Like she could no longer trust her own judgement. So she busied herself and avoided dealing with the situation. And Maura was left to suffer on her own.

Now Maura was sick…really sick and Jane couldn't decide if she should hold her or run away. She felt like every nerve ending was being pulsed through a blender. As if she wasn't raw enough, glassy, hazel green opened to look at her. The woman whom she had called a best friend gazed at her with sad, sunken eyes set against pale, clammy skin.

"Jane," it came out in a rasp. "Jane...I am so sorry. I..."

"Maura," the detective steadied her with a gently squeeze to the shoulder. "It's OK. You need to rest."

The doctor seemed determined to express herself. She closed her eyes to gather strength then looked slightly unfocused at Jane. The detective had to struggle to hear her above the rainstorm.

"I know you can't love me back." Tears ran down trembling cheeks. "I'm not going to make it...so it will be OK, you will be OK...I just...I want to thank you for the love you _were_ able to give me. It's more than I ever thought I would get."

Jane felt as if the inside of her chest was crumbling on itself like a sandcastle in high tide. She had no response because she couldn't swallow past the lump in her throat. For a moment, she thought the tarp was leaking, but it was her own tears wetting her chest as they ran down cheeks and chin and neck. That never dormant sense of failure surfaced like a black cloud, mocking and challenging her.

Green eyes fluttered shut, brows knit in pain then relaxed as fatigue won out. It was clear that outside of whatever unresolved conflict she and Maura had, the doctor needed help and she needed it fast.


	11. Chapter 11

"I don't want to stay here by myself," Sarah whined.

"You are not by yourself. I need you to take care of Maura."

"She scares me." The youngster looked earnestly at the detective willing her to understand without making her say the words. Jane was distracted by her own preparations, shuffling around camp stuffing things into a backpack.

"I…I don't want to be here by myself when she dies."

That brought the woman to an immediate halt. She looked into the girl's frightened eyes then over to the still body of her best friend. Jane dropped her bag and kneeled down in front of Sarah taking the girl's small hands into her own. After a deep breath, she tried to find a way to express her own fears without compounding Sarah's.

"Look. I'm going to get us out of this. But I can't do that by waiting here on the beach for someone to find us." She pointed up the slope of the island that rose behind their camp. "I've got to get a look from up there. I need to see if there are any boats in the area or if there is another island nearby that we can get to. If…when Maura wakes up, please try to get her to drink some more. I will get back as soon as I can."

"What if she doesn't wake up? What if she…" The girl persisted.

Jane felt the darkness fill her mind like an oily sludge. It threatened to smother her tenuous action plan and force her to succumb to the gnawing cowardice that she knew bubbled in her core. Her bravado was an ever-thinning veneer. And if the unspeakable actually did happen…if she had to experience losing Maura, her very soul would fracture into a million tiny shards and blow away with the sand. While her brain justified that she was driving toward a logical rescue plan, her heart knew the truth…she was running away. She was more frightened than Sarah.

The detective grabbed the backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Her movements were strong and assured, but her tremulous tone betrayed her bluster.

"I will be back as soon as I can. Just please…look after her."

* * *

The sun was high in the sky and Jane could feel the rivulets of sweat running down the middle of her back. Climbing through the thick brush and steep incline was not like a Sunday morning run through the parks of Boston. She had chosen an overgrown path to protect her from the direct sun, but the tradeoff was fighting through the humid brush. Yet again, she wondered how this _city mouse_ found herself in such an exotic hell hole. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other toward the peak of the crest.

Nearly an hour later, she finally reached the ridge. Now she needed to hike along it until she could find a clearing in the trees to take a look around. All she really wanted to do was sit and rest. However, Jane was a cop who was no stranger to fear. And fear fed on inactivity. Even a 5 minute break could scuttle her resolve and drop her into madness.

She pressed forward past the line of palms and looked out toward the back side of the island. Jane blinked several times to clear her vision. It wasn't an illusion. There were two large boats approaching the convex edge of the cay. For a full 10 seconds, she stared at them with her mouth agape. It was impossible from this distance to tell what kind of crafts they were or who was on-board.

Jane's brain spun up to a frenzy. Now what? How was she going to contact them? All her energy had been in getting to the lookout with little planning on what to do once she was there. Let alone how to get the attention of whomever she saw. Her first thought was to fire her gun into the air. The sound would certainly get their attention. But if they were tourist boats, it could just as likely send them fleeing in fright.

She turned around in a circle looking for inspiration. The ground around her was no help. She looked back out in the direction she had just climbed up. The view from the inlet side of the island sent a shock of chills down her spine. Just clearing the entry point of the bay was the SOC-R. The Goon Squad had returned and was headed straight for their camp.

"God, fucking, damn-it!" Jane bellowed into the sky. Help on one side. Harm on the other. It was like the universe was engaged in a masochistic game to tear her mind in two. She looked from one side to the other, twisting her neck like break point at a tennis match. Why was it always a choice between impossible alternatives? For the hundredth time since landing on this god forsaken rock, she felt the urge to crumple into a ball and simply cry.

With a second anguished wail toward the clouds, she yanked open her backpack and rifled through it for her handgun. There was no choice. She had no option but to scramble back to camp and defend Maura and Sarah as best she could against the god-damned, asshole, son-of-a-bitch, pieces of shit heading their way.

Jane stowed the pistol into the back of her shorts with a vicious shove. She grabbed the backpack by the shoulder strap and tested its weight. With a Herculean snarl, Jane whipped the bag with all of her might toward the two boats mooring to the North. She couldn't spare the time to watch it land. For the second time since her arrival, she scurried down the slope toward her friend at an uncontrolled pace.

Just before she dropped below the tree line, she was able to catch a last glimpse of the Goon Boat. She lifted her chin to the heavens in thanks for finally catching something of a break. The boat was heading to a spot about a half mile down shore from their camp. That would give her the precious time she needed to get to Maura and the girl and come up with some sort of defense plan.

Jumping fallen logs and dodging vines, she could see their camp up ahead. With the blue awning tarp stretched out as their rain-catching roof, the nook would not be hard to spot for the searching men. Jane could see Maura curled up on her makeshift bed, but Sarah was no where in sight.

The detective dashed into the middle of camp and looked around each crate and pile for he little girl. She forced herself not to yell her name. Where the hell was she? How could she have left. Jane had been adamant about her watching over Maura.

Maura.

Jane stood straight up, her eyes wide, her breath held. Sarah would probably leave if Maura was…if Maura had…

Jane looked at the unmoving body. The edges of her vision began to darken and fade like she was trapped in a tunnel. The sounds of the jungle muffled until all she could hear was the thunder-thumping of her own heart beat. With a force outside her own will, she slowly approached the woman who was curled in a fetal position with tangled blonde hair and a gray sweatshirt clad back to her.

She watched painfully detached as her left hand raised shakily from her side. It trembled as it move slowly forward like it was reaching out to a ghost. Fingertips edged over a shoulder. The flesh was soft, but still. Jane leaned her body forward to see Maura's face. It was placid and impossible to read. With a strength she didn't know she had, Jane moved the back of her finger to graze the pale cheek.

Relief coursed through Jane's veins like a firehose. She exhaled the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Her burning shoulders sank as they released their steely tension. Maura was alive.

With no time to ponder the consequences of any other outcome, the dark-haired woman squatted down and slid one arm under the doctor's knees and the other carefully under her neck. Jane lifted her bridle style and stepped gingerly out of the camp into the brush. Whether it was adrenaline or her friend's depleted frame, Jane made note of how easy it was to carry the woman…how comfortable it felt. Maura's head was tucked against her shoulder and she could feel her hair against her arm. The weigh against her chest was warm and almost soothing. Jane gave a moment's thought to just carrying Maura over the ridge to the other side of the island. But Sarah was out here somewhere.

Jane had to think this through. The goons were most likely coming from the beach. She had to keep herself between them and Maura but minimize the chance that her friend could get caught in any crossfire. She headed toward a large banyan tree and steps around the roots until she was on the opposite side. Gingerly, she deposited Maura into the nook of the highest buttresses. The loss of contact gave her an instant feeling of emptiness. Jane reached down to adjust Maura's head and tuck the hair behind her ear. She wished she'd thought to bring a blanket to cover her.

With a last look and a deep sigh of relief, the detective headed back in a trot toward the camp.

"Sarah!" She whisper-yelled through clenched teeth. "Sarah!"

Jane had precious little time to find the girl before the goons would be on top of them. She needed to find all of the guns she'd salvaged and make some sort of a barricade. It was going to be one against…well, more than one and she would be a sitting target, especially if they were smart enough to spread out and surround her. At least if Sarah had fled, she'd be safe from the approaching danger.

Jane grabbed the rifle and set it with her handgun then opened one of the crates to look for the stash of extra ammo. She also grabbed the handgun she'd salvaged from the goon she killed at camp. With both in hand she sat on the other crate to load all of her weapons. The crate shook beneath her and made a muffled sound.

Jane tossed the weapons aside, spun around and cracked open the lid to find Sarah huddled in a ball. The girl was crying, but shuddered with relief on seeing the detective.

"The men were coming back," she uttered between sobs. "I was trying to hide."

Jane grabbed her upper arm to help her out of the box and gave her a tight hug.

"Sarah, you did great. I'm here now. It's going to be OK."

Time was too short for anything more. She could hear the men approaching. Sparing a quick glance toward the beach, she could see at least seven heavily armed goons on the prowl. Jane looked down at her pile of weapons. For a fleeting moment, she contemplated handing one to Sarah. They were mercilessly outnumbered and out-equipped. But the weapon would make Sarah a target and worse, if the girl had managed to use it successfully…well, it would create wounds that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Jane already had the weight of career's worth of those actions. The burden would be hers alone to bear.

She stood and ushered Sarah toward the back of the camp.

"See that big tree over there? The one past the palms?" The girl nodded. "Maura is over there on the back side between the big roots. It is a good place to hide."

Jane reached back and grabbed one of the blankets. "Take this and get down as deep as you can. Cover yourselves up and stay there."

"How will I know when it is safe?"

"Keep your head down as long as you hear gunfire. If it stops…well, then you will know that it is over. If you don't hear my voice, stay as quiet and as still as you can."

Jane watched the girl scurry through the brush hopping over branches and through the palm fronds like she was at school recess. But this was no playground and the coming game of tag would be a deadly one. The numbers were against Jane, but she was trained and she was motivated.

The fox for his dinner, the rabbit for his life.

Jane quickly loaded her weapons, crouched down behind the crates…and waited.


	12. Chapter 12

Sometimes it really sucked to be a cop.

The goon squad was marching down the middle of the beach with guns slung on their backs and holstered at their hips. On any decent day at the shooting range, Jane could have picked all seven of them off before they even spotted her. But alas, she couldn't exactly outright kill seven people…even on a deserted tropical island…even after they had already tried to kill her and do god knows what to Sarah and Maura…even knowing full well that this day was simply destined for a fire fight.

So she picked a spot about 50 yards away and called it a line. When they crossed it, she would make her presence known and see where fate took them. It wasn't as if she hadn't found herself in impossible situations before. And she seemed to be at her best when forced to improvise. Although she wasn't so sure everyone would consider some of her more classic moves to be that inspired…shooting through herself to hit a dirty cop, throwing herself off a bridge, walking unarmed into a bank robbery. Still, she'd muscled through them all because protecting others seemed to be a virus that infected every cell in her body. Whether it was the Italian first born nonsense Maura had told her or not, she was programmed that way.

As the goons got closer, she could start to make out their faces. She recognized about half of them - the guy she decked on the boat, the one from the island who had fled with the guy she shot, and bringing up the rear…fucking Dennis.

Jane could feel the bile rising up into her throat. He had a smile on his face.

In about 10 more steps the first goon would cross her imaginary line. Warning shot in the air? Go for a leg? Kill one outright? _Shit, shit, shit._ She did the only thing a badged officer could do.

"Stop where you are! I'm armed and you need to know that I am a cop."

At the sound of her voice, most of them hit the sand and scrambled for their weapons. She could see at least two of them peel off toward the cover of the brush.

They were grumbling at each other, but she couldn't make out their words over the crashing waves. Dennis army crawled to the front of the pack.

"A chick and a cop, huh? Look, there is just no way this is going to end well for you," he hollered. "Toss out your weapon and we'll work something out."

"I don't care for your brand of hospitality," Jane shouted back. "At this point in the game, most of you guys are just unsuccessful kidnappers. You could disappear. But, if you kill a cop…they never stop looking for you. You gotta ask yourself if it is really worth it."

"Oh, it's worth it. You don't know the half of it. I'm guessing you know who the little girl's daddy is, but you don't know what he is into."

"I can tell you one thing for sure…I don't care." Jane was getting frustrated. They were at a stalemate. No one was going to give up, certainly not her. They were just marking time, and time was not something on her side.

"Look," Dennis' voice tried for some semblance of compassion. "You don't want to be stuck here forever. Let's just get you and the girl into the boat and take it from there."

Was it possible that Dennis didn't know Maura was on the island? At least one of the other goons had to have seen her on the beach. Jane's mind began to spin thinking of how she could use that to advantage. Unfortunately, the distraction drew her focus from her surroundings. The two goons who had headed for the tree line were now approaching the edge of the camp. The goon in front burst through the trees with his gun waving around. In the milliseconds it took him to spot the woman under cover of the crates, Jane drew her Glock and fired. A sunburst of red filled the man's chest as he fell back into the goon behind him.

That first gunshot ignited pure pandemonium. The guys on the beach ran for cover and began firing shots into the brush. Jane reached for the second handgun and sent back a volley of her own shots. She couldn't clear the top of her barricade enough to see where everyone was at, but she could hear that at least one bullet hit its mark. The satisfying moan let her know a goon was injured enough to be out of the game.

After several rounds of panic firing, there was a collective pause to regroup. Jane could hear the goon on the perimeter of the camp struggling to get out from under the dead man on top of him. She fired a shot in his direction hoping it would persuade him to fall back. It was answered by a single shot her direction from the beach. Then there was quiet again.

It was inevitable that they would spread out to trap her in the middle. She wouldn't be able to cover all directions and she didn't have enough ammo to lay down suppressive fire for more than a few minutes. Her only option was to fall back before they could gain position. And she had to fall back in a direction that led them away from Maura and the girl.

Plan in hand, Jane scrambled for the rifle and slung it over her shoulder. She crouched as low as she could and slid over the makeshift bed at the rear of the camp. Then she stood up, fired out toward the beach to get their attention, and turned to run.

It was a hell of a risky move. There would be five goons in pursuit firing her direction and all she could do was bob and weave in hopes that the trees would give her adequate cover. She set off on a zig zag, cringing each time she heard a shot. Bullets whizzed by her slicing through the dense foliage.

Jane ran full out for about 50 yards then took cover behind a tree to return fire. She couldn't track anyone fast enough to hit her mark, but she at least got them to dive for the dirt. This gave her time to switch to the rifle. It was a slower shot than the handguns, but she was running low on ammo and the only supplies she had found were shells for the heavy Mossberg.

She let out several shots then took off again at an angle that hopefully gave her cover from the tree she'd been hiding behind. It didn't take long for the goons to rally in pursuit. Jane tried desperately to think while she ran. This plan of hers didn't really have an end game. She'd eventually get too tired to run. She'd eventually run out of bullets. They would eventually catch up.

Apparently, thinking and running were not compatible actions for the detective so long as city streets were swapped out for jungle vines and fallen logs. Her trailing foot caught the greenery as she leapt over a large root and she tumbled forward flat on to her chest. Unfortunately, she did not have the distance she'd hoped for from the goon squad. In the time it took her to reach for the cast off handgun and roll over onto her back, Jane heard the cocking of a pistol above her head.

With fluidity of motion, her own gun was now pointing from her outstretched arms muzzle to muzzle up toward the man who had tracked her down. The muscles in her forearms twitched the instant she realized she was looking up into the eyes of Dennis…Mark…Asshole-in-Charge. With only a whisper of conscious thought, she fired her weapon.

And the hammer clicked against an empty chamber.

That was the endgame.

Jane unclasped her hands and let them drop in resignation to her sides. She would fail this last test. It somehow seemed fitting to her. She thought about her family, her colleagues, her friends…her friend. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that someone more worthy would appear to help Maura. Her eyes snapped open when Dennis kicked her in the leg.

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic," he taunted. "I'm not going to kill you."

Jane's face clearly held a question.

"I'm thinking I will have a little fun with you first," he sneered.

The other goons had caught up and were assembled in a semicircle behind Dennis.

"You're not as… _enticing_ as your gal pal, but I'm sure the guys can hold you down while I _satisfy_ myself."

A moment ago, Jane had been prepared to die. She sure as hell was willing to choose death over a goon squad gangbang. She would make a grab for the second handgun and let fate have its way. Her teeth clenched and her nostrils flared as she let the fire of anger spread through her pores. With a grunting snarl, she twisted resolutely to her side and just got the tips of her fingers onto the barrel before she heard the inevitable shot.

She squeezed her eyes shut and stiffened in reflex against the red-hot bullet that would pierce…her gut? Her chest? Her head? Where was it? But there was nothing. She'd felt the searing pain of a gunshot wound more than once. It wasn't something you could miss.

Through her confusion she became aware of the commotion around her. Men were shouting, but they were shouting from behind her and in a language she didn't know. She gingerly opened her eyes remaining careful against any sudden moves. The goon squad was still standing at attention, but they all had their hands up. The lifeless body of Dennis lay at her feet.

From behind her head, Jane could hear the approach of what sounded like an impressive squad of rescuers. God, she hoped they were rescuers. She was truly at her limit on new challenges. Staring straight up into the jungle canopy, she first saw the black barrel of a FAMAS French service rifle and then a soldier with the word _Gendarmerie_ stitched across his chest.

* * *

It was hot and cold at the same time.

It took a few minutes for Maura to understand the riddle. She had been awake listening to the sounds around her trying to reconcile her last memories with these newest ones. There was no surf, no birds and frogs and monkey screeches. There were doors opening and closing, the rattle of metal objects rolling on wheels, a chatter of voices in the distance.

She was still laying in the sun, but the cool air bringing goosebumps to her forearms was coming from an overhead vent.

Before she could build the energy to pry open her eyes, she heard someone enter her room and bustle about. A small clip was placed on her index finger, then a blood pressure cuff inflated around her left arm.

She was in a hospital.

The woman who had been taking her vitals called out to a colleague passing in the hall. "Je pense qu'elle se réveille." _I think she is waking up._

She was in a French hospital.

Maura's mouth was very dry, but speaking still seemed easier than opening her eyes.

"Où suis-je?" _Where am I?_

"Tres bien. Tu parle français." _Very good. You speak French._

The nurse went on to explain that she was at Louis Constant Fleming, a hospital on the French side of Saint-Martin. She was being treated for severe dehydration and several infections, although cultures were still out to make a complete diagnosis. When she explained that she was herself a doctor, the nurse pledged to send in the resident physician to provide more details.

At some point in the conversation, she had managed to get her eyes working. The room was a bit of a shock for the medical professional. While it far eclipsed the provisions of the Médecins Sans Frontières, the facility was tropical to say the least. The equipment looked like it dated back to the 60s. Still, everything appeared sanitary and in good working order. But she couldn't help to notice that she was completely alone.

Before the nurse continued her rounds, she ventured one last question.

"Excusez-moi. Y a-t-il une femme ici qui m'attend?" _Pardon me. Is there a woman here waiting for me?_

"Non. Elle est partie."

Jane had left her.


	13. Chapter 13

To say the slap across the face was a surprise is unquestionably an understatement.

They had yelled at each other, guilt-tripped each other, certainly ignored each other, but Angela had never raised a hand to any of her children until now.

Jane sat in her apartment, beer in hand, TV on, but completely void of any sensation. She stared blankly into space unhearing of the sport scores and unfeeling of the bottle sweat rolling down her fingers.

It was hard to believe that it had only been two weeks. In fact, it had only been two days later than they had planned to return from the cruise in the first place. Somehow, it felt like months, and it was hard to reconcile that the Boston bustle was chugging along as if there had never been a rift in the fabric of time. The fabric of Jane's own timeline felt worn and frayed.

Senator Markey had sent a private plane down to retrieve his daughter. He didn't come himself or send his wife which the detective found peculiar. In her line of business, peculiar usually led to a cover up of something, something not good. Jane remembered Sarah's excitement on the approach to upstate New York. She had sighed knowing that this was not the end of the ordeal for the youngster. Her father was involved in something worthy of international kidnapping. That meant that Sarah's life was bound to be upturned again…and probably soon. Jane had hugged her goodbye and turned her over to the senator's aids. Then she'd hopped a transit train for Boston.

The knock on the apartment door was nothing if not unwelcome. She knew who it was. Only two people ever knocked on her door. And one of them was…well, was not the one knocking for sure. Jane stalled until the persistence and increased vigor signaled that her mother had no intention of leaving.

She didn't remember setting the bottle of beer on the coffee table. But when her left hand reached for the doorknob, it was, in fact, empty. She got the door cracked about six inches before it is was slung open by the force of her mother's entry. The Italian woman swallowed Jane into a hug so complete it was nearly a swaddle.

A stream of loosely-connected endearments and worry words poured forth from Angela as she squeezed against the squirms of her lanky daughter. When Jane finally bellowed out a "Ma!" She stepped back to take in her returned child.

"What are you wearing?" Jane had forgotten that she was in borrowed clothes. There had not been time to contact the cruise line about their luggage. In the coming days, she knew she would need to be providing statements and details about her time on the ship. She'd have to spend more time than she wanted untangling the red tape associated with the mess they'd found themselves in the center of.

"Have you eaten anything? I can make something simple for you." Jane didn't know how her mom got past her and into the kitchen. She seemed more interested in asking the questions than actually listening to the answers. She was already opening the fridge and deciphering the edible from inedible.

"Is Maura laying down?"

Jane tensed so completely that she forgot to even blink. She held her breath hoping against hope that her mother will continue on to the next in her string of questions. But she knew better.

"Jane. Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"Why aren't you answering me?"

Offense was the best defense. Aggressive first attack. "I'm not her keeper, Ma. She's still in the hospital in Saint-Martin. She's fine though. They are just treating her for some things she picked up on the island. It is no big deal."

Jane had moved toward the kitchen as she spoke, which meant she could actually see the veins bulging in her mother's neck.

"No big deal? You LEFT her in the hospital?!"

"Calm down, Ma. I had a job to do. I had to take the senator's daughter back to New York." While she was going for confident and forceful in her response, it might have been more successful if she wasn't staring at her feet. Jane's mom moved around the counter to stand directly in front of her daughter.

"Bullshit!"

Now Jane was forced to look her in the eye.

"Bullshit!" She repeated. "Your not in charge of that little girl. She had a private plane for god's sake. You did enough for her. What about Maura? You're her friend…"

"That's right, ma. And she is _just_ a friend." Jane tried to wrestle the conversation back. "I'm not in charge of her either…She's not some stray dog, you know. Haven't I done enough for her, too? She can rely on her own damn family instead of always mooching off of ours!"

And that is exactly when Jane found herself on the receiving end of a slap across the face.

* * *

Maura handed the cell phone back to Dr. Zindagi with thanks and an offer to pay for any international charges. He waved her off and told her to get some rest. He believed that she would be discharged in the morning. She had not wanted to take advantage of his generosity, so her only call had been to the family lawyer to make travel and passport arrangements. She had also asked her to please call her mother and advise her on what had happened and assure her that Maura was fine. There was really no need to speak to her mother directly. It wasn't the type of relationship they had.

Now, the slight woman had little to do but sit and think. Her symptoms were beginning to abate with the antibiotics, anti-parasitics and aggressive rehydration. The headaches were less and she was even able to keep bland foods down. She'd read her medical file cover to cover and spoken to the police, who were delighted by her French fluency. Maura had given them as much information as she could, but there was little to contribute after the first day on the island. She was very frustrated that they were unable or unwilling to give her any information in return.

She only knew that the French military police force had raided the island. Everything beyond that was a mystery. She wondered what had happened to the girl whose name she struggled to remember. And Jane. She knew from the nurse that Jane was OK. But the woman she'd considered her best friend left nothing so much as a note before she fled.

Maura's initial reaction was to construct a list of reasons…justifications on why Jane would need to get back to the states. But she eventually sobered up to the inevitable truth. Being rescued had not changed the vitriol Jane felt toward her emotional transgression.

Maura sighed into the empty room. She had absolutely done this to herself. Years of friendship with Jane, the only real relationship she'd ever had with another woman, had been slowly misconstrued by her. She had been gradually lulled toward a familiarity whose boundaries were solid for Jane and clearly fluid for Maura. Now, she racked her brain to catalogue the clues that she had so poorly misinterpreted.

Maura was almost compulsive with her wide personal space bubble, but Jane was very free with physical contact. At first it had been jarring and uncomfortable. Maura was not used to being touched, at least not outside of sex. Sex was easy to understand. There was a purpose, and the intention behind the contact was apparent. Jane's touch was often comforting, but frequently just to communicate her presence. Gradually, Maura found herself touching back. And that became something special that she shared with Jane. Something that was just for them. But Maura should have kept it in context. She knew herself to be emotionally neglected. Jane's physical attention was as potent as alcohol and she had behaved like a drunken fool.

Then there were the looks. This really frustrated the doctor. Maura had extensively studied facial expressions. She'd even used her expertise to assist in interrogations. Jane's face could be very open and expressive. There were times when she clearly looked at Maura with affection, pride, tenderness, warmth. It just seemed impossible that there wasn't also desire. The scientist in her checked her reasoning. Desire predicated intent. Sure, Jane had great affection for her. But it was Maura who had assigned a motive on her friend's behalf.

Yes, she had absolutely done this to herself.

* * *

The two women stared at each other, both with eyes wide in shock.

Jane could see the regret in her mother's face, but her own guilt stopped her from uttering a complaint. For several long moments, they simply let time spin around them. Her mother's diminished voice broke the swirl.

"I think you'd better tell me what happened between the two of you."

Angela snagged Jane by the forearm and led her into the seating area. The lanky woman flopped down with a huff.

"I don't know where to start." She snapped.

"Well, don't make it more complicated than it is."

"Ok, Ma. Geez." Jane remained silent contemplating where to begin and how much to tell. In most cases, brevity was recommended when dealing with Angela Rizzoli. "I found out that… that Maura…well, that she..that her _feelings_ , you know, go beyond friendship."

Apparently, brevity would not be her savior. "And that is why you abandoned her in a foreign hospital?!" Angela's tone was both questioning and incredulous.

"I just…look, I can't face her if I know she feels that way."

This triggered a laugh - a sharp, skeptical burst laced with _I knew it_. Jane was not amused. Her eyes narrowed at the teasing. But her mother continued on.

"I have two detectives in the family. Do you think I can't pick up on clever word choice?"

"What are you talking about?" Jane asked cautiously.

"The problem is not that Maura is in love with you. The problem is that now you know it."

"Okaaayyy?" Jane couldn't quite decipher the meaning.

"Her feelings toward you aren't the issue. Now you have to _deal_ with them...which means you have to deal with your own feelings - something you don't want to do."

Jane stood up and moved to a defensive position behind the sofa. "I don't have any feelings. Not those type of feelings. Maura is my friend. She's even my best friend. But that's it!"

Angela stayed seated and put her hands out to calm her daughter.

Jane's voice was on the rise. "Maura's the one who is confused. You know she can't read people. She doesn't have friends. She doesn't even understand what a normal relationship it. Don't you get it? This is about her. It's her mistake. It's not even about me!"

"Jane, honey please. You need to stop this."

"Stop what, Ma? Come on. I've spent my entire adult life trying to convince everyone I wasn't gay. The job, the sports, Maura…it doesn't _make_ me gay!"

"Jane…"

"I'm not! OK. Will you just believe me? People can call me what they want. Assume. Tease me. It doesn't _make_ me gay!" Jane spat. She was actually seething. Her jaw was clamped shut and breath came and went as snorts through flared nostrils.

Angela tried not to inflame the situation. Her timbre was soft and sympathetic.

"Why are you so angry?"

Jane couldn't answer right away.

"Jane…?"

Silence.

"Jane…?"

"Because I hate that people think that about me!" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not! I'm not! I'm not gay!" Her daughter's hands were clenched into fists as she bellowed to the ceiling.

Angela slowly stood listening to the echoes bounce through the tiny apartment. She knew that she was facing a volcano whose energy had not yet been spent. But she also knew there was only one direction to head.

"If you're not, then you're not." Her mother pressed softly. "Janie, tell me why are you so angry?"

Angela caught sight of the tear that breached the corner of her daughter's eye and escaped down a tense cheek. Her heart broke seeing her eldest child grapple with inner demons who held happiness prisoner in a dark cave. Like any parent, she wished hopelessly that she could take the pain for herself. This was Jane's fight. She could only help to pick up the pieces.

Eventually, Jane dropped her gaze from the plaster. Her eyes were now so full that her mother's face was distorted from view. Even so, she could feel the compassion flowing toward her. Jane felt as if she were standing on the edge of a pool. Arms reached out promising to catch her, but she was still so scared to jump. So very scared.

There was a lump in her throat. It nearly strangled her. She knew it was not a real one…medically speaking. Maura would know the scientific term. The thought brought the chestnut blonde's face unbidden to her mind's eye.

Maura…Loyal. Kindhearted. Trusting. Generous. Attentive….Loving.

Jane found her voice.

"What if I am?"

Angela thought for a moment that Jane was speaking to herself. When she didn't immediately react, her daughter's face contorted from sadness to fear. This jolted her into action. She moved around the sofa and seized Jane firmly around the biceps. The woman instantly dropped her chin to her chest. Angela could feel the tremors course through the thin upper body.

"Janie, sweetheart," she beckoned. "Let go."

The stalwart detective did just that.

Jane collapsed into her mother's arms with such force they fell against the back of the sofa. Arms wrapped around her trembling frame in an attempt to absorb the ache. Angela had seen her daughter cry, but she had never seen her sob. The pain from Jane's question…or admission…was palpable. The younger woman sagged against her shoulder as if she lacked the strength to stand.

"It's OK. It's OK," Angela repeated like a mantra into the mane of hair spilling over her side. Her only answer was the sound of anguished tears and ragged, gasping breaths spilling forth from a broken heart.

Angela knew that the enormity of this revelation went well beyond the events that led to it. It was a keystone in the arc of Jane's life that simply could not remain buried any longer. Its timing did nothing to color the inevitability of its emergence. Still, Angela could not deny that Maura was most certainly the key to a very tricky lock. One that had been jammed shut by its owner in an irrational attempt to circumvent fate.

She could only hope that fate would be forgiving.


	14. Chapter 14

Jane woke with a crick in her neck. Her tiny sofa was not a surrogate bed designed for an adult, let alone one who was nearly 6-ft and all limbs. It was only 8am so she hadn't even been asleep for more than a couple of hours. Squinting across the apartment, she could see that the open window shades were the culprit.

She groaned ruefully. It was such a cliché - that guiltless moment when you first regained consciousness. It felt so free, so light and unburdened. You got the feeling that the world was all fresh and new…just before reality dropped like a cartoon anvil on your head.

* * *

She was on the sofa because her mother was in her bed. Her mother was in her bed because they had stayed up until close to 5am. They had stayed up until 5am because Jane was having a nervous breakdown. And Jane was having a nervous breakdown because she had finally admitted the truth…out loud.

"Alright. Come on," Angela tried to coax her daughter around the back of the sofa to at least sit down. The sobbing had receded to a tired weep. But she had to keep control of the situation before Jane recovered enough to bolt from her own apartment.

They sat together. Angela let Jane fold defensively into herself, settling for contact with a hand on her thigh.

"Janie, I'm sure there must be a book I can read to tell me how a parent is supposed to respond. But it doesn't really have much to do with who you are attracted to. I wish I could just help you to stop comparing yourself to everyone. You are so damn competitive. Been that way since you were a little girl. But who cares what people think as long as you are happy."

"Do I look like I am happy?" Jane's chin was tucked down into crossed arms over raised knees. Her gravely voice echoed into the cavity she'd created around her chest.

"Well, not so much right now. But I hope you at least feel a little bit relieved. That's a really big weight to carry around as long as you have. But you took the first step toward putting it down. Or at least sharing the load. You know I love you unconditionally, no matter what. I know you don't think you need a mother anymore, but I hope that this might be one last thing I can support you through."

Jane slowly lifted her head to put red-rimmed eyes on her mother. Italians were natural nurtures, but she was a little surprised that this hadn't crossed her mom's Catholic conservative bounds. "Geez, Ma. Where do you learn to be so sensitive?"

"Oprah."

The chuckle was a relief. Angela's eldest child was an emotional enigma. It was difficult for her to judge sometimes if she was helping or hurting. There was silence in the room again and Angela let it be. Her patience was rewarded when at long last Jane stretched out her limbs and they began to talk.

They started with neutral topics just trying to diffuse some of the energy in the air. Eventually, the diminishing gyre brought them back to Jane's pseudo-admission. She talked about how all of the teasing as a tomboy made her damn-near homophobic. How her inability to find a guy she was emotionally interested in was rationalized over and over in her head. The pressure she felt from her mom's obsession with grandkids. Mostly, how she honestly didn't even really have feelings _like that_ until the last couple of years.

Angela had been on her best behavior through all of this. She tried not to interrupt unless it was to offer support or an apology for her own role in the pressure building. However, there was a niggling thought that she just couldn't shake. A question she needed answered, or maybe a question that she needed Jane to answer for herself.

"Janie," she ventured cautiously. "I'm just asking, 'cause I just think you should consider…well, that maybe this has something to do with things that changed in your friendships over the last several years?"

Jane pinched her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Um," she hesitated but decided there was nothing to gain by beating around the bush. "Do you think you are gay-gay or maybe just Maura-gay?"

Angela braced for an explosion that never ignited. Instead, Jane looked at her then blinked her gaze to a spot on the carpet. She could see the gears churning in an attempt to put the puzzle pieces together. The detective was sifting through memories that were confusing at first, but lining up toward a bigger picture. Like a bloodhound on the scent, Angela could see her daughter zeroing in on a conclusion. What she didn't expect was the look of self-reproach when she got there.

"It was me."

With uncharacteristic restraint, Angela waited for her to continue.

"I did this to Maura. I'm the one…" Jane's breathing came in shallow, distressed puffs. "Maura doesn't read people well, not living people anyway. That's why she doesn't have friends. And I took advantage of that."

Angela could see the anxiety rising. "What do you mean, Janie?"

"I…I think I knew that I could do things with her, to her, that she wouldn't understand for what they were. So I could, you know, experiment with my feelings and Maura wouldn't…I don't know…call my bluff."

Angela wrinkled her brows in confusion. "You girls have always seemed very… _flirty_."

"That's my point! Maura doesn't even know I'm flirting." The lanky woman was nervously weaving her fingers together and rubbing her palms.

"What happened on the island? You made it sound like Maura started it."

Jane's face read of shame. Her voice was high, tension constricting her throat. "I'm an idiot. Worse than that, I'm an asshole. I…I let her believe this was her fault. Oh god, I was so…and she almost…"

Tears welled in Jane's eyes as she looked hopelessly at her mother. Angela reached for her daughter's hand. "Janie, honey, I still don't understand."

"I was so angry with her." Jane began her confession. "I just thought…she goes out with guys all the time. Assholes…but guys. I thought she was safe for me to…"

Then she went on to lay out the evidence of her own crimes. How she understands now that she had treated Maura differently, teased her emotionally and taken advantage of her social inabilities.

"Maura thinks that she crossed a line with _me_." Jane's guilt seemed to flow with every tear. "I let her think she ruined our friendship. I…I left her!"

A mane of dark hair flopped into Angela's lap. Her daughter curled into a ball convulsing from the strength of her sobs. Angela rubbed a shoulder with one hand and stroked hair with the other. While she struggled to process, there was little else to do than comfort the woman until fatigue finally won out.

* * *

Jane slouched on the sofa with her head tilted back at the ceiling. Her mind was alarmingly blank. She felt a heaviness of anticipation, or more accurately dread. But she couldn't tangibly connect to exactly how the dread was destined to manifest. She just knew she didn't feel lighter and free like her mother had hoped.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself up and headed to the kitchen. Maybe coffee would help. And breakfast. Action was always her mind's savior. She busied herself with the coffeemaker and a search through the kitchen for things that wouldn't require her long-expired milk or eggs.

The clatter and java smell roused her mother. After some futzing in the bathroom, the woman made her way into the small area and quietly took up buttering the toast. Jane handed her a cup of coffee and they sat side by side at the counter.

Jane marveled at her mother's restraint. They had eaten, finished their coffee and cleaned up before the older woman ventured back to the inevitable questions.

"Maura."

It was a statement and a question and an accusation.

"I need some time to think, Ma."

Miraculously, she seemed to accept that. "You're sure she's OK? She's safe?"

"I'll call the hospital today."

Angela gathered her things. She hugged Jane a little longer than normal than pulled back to look into brown, sullen eyes.

"I love you, Janie. And I love Maura, too. I'm going to pray that things work out between you two, whatever way it ends up."

"Thanks, Ma. I appreciate your support." And Jane meant it.

* * *

Maura sat on the plane looking out over the ocean. They were flying directly over a small island that looked to be uninhabited. She wondered somewhat ambivalently if it was the island they were rescued from. Probably not. The flight attendant stopped by her first class seat and offered her a drink. She ordered sparkling water with lemon.

Nervous hands fidgeted with the material in her lap. It was Jane's BPD sweatshirt. She had asked them to wash it for her. It was the only thing she had besides a foreign issue passport and US$40 cash for the taxi ride home. She crossed her arms around the jacket and let her head fall back against the seat. The plane ride was so very different from the one she shared with Jane on the way down. Everything was different, Maura thought to herself. And everything would be different from now on.

She had settled with her decision to leave Boston. She wasn't being a martyr. She simply had more options than Jane did. Jane wouldn't leave her family and the police department was her home. In fact, it was the only job she'd ever had. Maura had to let her have that. She had to let Jane have the life she'd worked so hard for.

Yet still, it was Boston she was returning to. She was not looking forward to what lie ahead. Her life and the Rizzolis were tangled from years of shared experiences. She would have to help Angela before she could sell her place. She'd have to resign and face the questions from Kent, Vince, Nina…Frankie. Frankie was going to be the difficult one. He wouldn't understand, and she had to make sure he didn't blame his sister. When they'd fought after the warehouse fire, after Jane had shot Paddy, Frankie had openly sided with her. She suspected it was because he still had a bit of a crush on her, but it had really wounded Jane. Loyalty was her highest calling.

Those had been some awful weeks for everyone. Maura couldn't put her friends though that again. She'd put Jane through enough. Time to learn this very hard lesson and move on.

About six hours later, the aircraft pulled in to the international terminal at Logan Airport. Maura deplaned with forced pleasantries for the flight attendants and made her way to the cavernous baggage area. Tourists and families bustled about gathering their belongs and funneling toward customs. Maura felt odd with no luggage and nothing to claim. Her lack didn't absolve her of the need to shuffle through the meandering labyrinth with several hundred other passengers.

Eventually, she suffered through the curious questions of the custom's officer and was waved through to American soil. As she approached the exit, her eye caught the warning sign mounted on a metal post.

 _No Return Beyond This Point_

It was poignant.

Maura pushed past the crowd of welcomers welcoming and scanned the directional signs for the taxi stand. Finding her path she squeezed past the tumult into the open terminal area and stopped cold.

Standing 40 feet away was Jane Rizzoli. She was wearing a dark grey, polyester suit and blue v-neck t-shirt, her badge and gun attached at the hip. Her stance was strong and regal. She looked confident and in control.

In her left hand was a large bouquet of yellow roses.


	15. Chapter 15

Jane had a route. It was surface streets to the West End, across to Memorial Park and all the way along the Charles River to Boston Common where she could sit and look out at Beacon Hill. She'd made the trip many times before. Usually very late at night. Nights when sleep was an elusive goal. Nights when she fought the urge to continue up to Pinckney Street and knock on one particular door.

Her mind wandered back many years to when she'd first met Dr. Maura Isles. The doctor's arrival at BPD was certainly a mark on the calendar. For the first several weeks, the heavily male establishment tripped over their tongues every time they crossed paths with the woman. She was a stunner. Jane had to admit that.

As much as she rebuked her colleagues, Jane, while slightly more subtle, was under the same spell. In fact, she was enchanted. The more time she spent with the quirky new friend, the more enchantment transformed into obsession. But Jane had struggled to understand what that obsession meant - admiration, hero worship, jealousy? She hadn't connected it to attraction. That seed was still buried deep under the weight of years spent defending her sexuality as a _normal_ one.

Jane's infatuation tempered with time. Or maybe more accurately, it simmered down to something deeper, something she could more easily define. Shared experiences stacked up like volumes of books in a library. Successes, failures, smiles, tears. With time, they became best friends. Best friends - poor Maura didn't even have a frame of reference to know what that meant. So Jane would show her…and that is where the trouble began.

 _This above all: To thine own self be true._ It was one of Jane's favorite quotes from high school literature. You can lie to the world, but there is no value in lying to yourself. Jane had certainly been lying to herself about Maura. Best friends didn't touch each other on the hip as they walked by. They didn't sit thigh to thigh on the sofa. They didn't hold hands, or go on dates or tell each other _I love you_. And Jane had been the instigator of all of these things. She had made Maura believe it was normal friend behavior. She had made herself believe that.

It all seemed so clear now. She was attracted to Maura. Probably was from the start. But her in-grained need to stifle any desire for women twisted and manipulated her feelings into an appalling game of deceit. And when Maura had finally called her on it, she had lashed out viciously.

* * *

For the second night in a row, Jane opened the door of her tiny apartment for her mother. And Angela was more than shocked that she'd been invited back.

"Sit down, Ma."

The elder woman entered swiftly and made her way to the sofa. She was surprised that they weren't going to have at least a few go's at _beat around the bush_.

Jane took in a deep breath and laid her cards on the table. "I don't know if I am gay-gay. I mean, I probably am. But I don't think I ever would've known if I hadn't met Maura. I do know that…that I love Maura. I think I did from the second I met her, but she's…well, she's Maura - beautiful, smart, sophisticated, successful. Even if she was wearing a rainbow flag as a skirt, I don't think I would've had the nerve to ask her out."

"Janie," Angela risked the interruption. "Why do you always have to put yourself down?"

"Ma, I will spend my entire life trying to be the person that you already think I am."

The Italian's temper heated her face to a sunny hue. "Now you listen up and listen up good. You never have to _try_ to be anything. I know exactly who you are. How could a mother not? Do you honestly think I am surprised? I know you love Maura and I know she loves you. What I don't get is why you somehow don't think you are worth her love?"

"Because I tricked her."

"What?"

"I tricked her into thinking the way I was with her was just friendship."

"And you did this on purpose?"

"No…I didn't even figure it out myself until last night."

"Right, because she is the smart one."

"She's fact smart, not people smart."

"Yet, it sounds like she got there before you did."

Jane was beginning to feel exasperated. "Ma…you're twisting everything I am saying."

"Janie," her mom offered patiently. "Did you ever stop to think that she was going through the same thing that you were? That maybe she started as your friend and developed feelings for you, too?"

"Yeah," Jane responded bitterly. "Right up until the point she slept with Asshole Dennis the night we were kidnapped."

Angela would not be dissuaded by her daughter's acrimony. In fact, she wrote that book long before Jane was even born. "You have a pretty high and mighty expectation of having it both ways. Let's get this straight - you treat her like a girlfriend," She waved a finger in her daughter's face. "And I know all about the little game you two played with poor Giovanni Gilberti. Then you insist that you are not a lesbian. You don't want her to have sex with men, but she makes a move on you and you abandon her in a hospital on some island in the Caribbean!"

"If you say _lesbian_ ," Jane snorted through grinding teeth. "One more time…"

"Oh, give me a break," an Italian hand waved dismissively in the air. "If you can't say it, you can't be it. Look, does any of this really matter? It seems to me the only thing you have to figure out is how you feel now and what you are going to do about it."

* * *

Jane's chest clenched at the sight of the fragile, gaunt woman who had come to an abrupt halt the moment their eyes met. She wanted to run to her like someone welcoming home a service member from a 6-month deployment. Wanted to embrace her, crushing the flowers between them. But Maura's face was not open. She was not smiling like a woman glad to be back in her hometown. Her mouth was set and her eyes looked wary, hesitant, skittish. Knuckles strained against the jacket she had clenched in her fist.

The bravado of a well-planned reunion collapsed like a ruined soufflé when Jane saw the fear in Maura's face. Jane did this to her. Jane, whom Maura had trusted in a world where there had been so very few to trust, did this to her. Jane, who had spent years trying to break down the carefully constructed walls that Maura had built to protect her from the living, did this to her. The sting of guilty tears pierced the back of her eyes.

Maura felt like her feet were actually riveted into the ground. At the same time, her body twitched with a powerful need to run away. In no scenario she could imagine was Jane waiting for her when she landed. But here she was. Jane had so viciously rebuffed her emotional transgression. But here she was. Jane had deserted her in a French island hospital. But here she was. Jane had so clearly indicated that their relationship was fractured beyond repair. But here she was.

Maura's eyes flitted cautiously across the mosaic in front of her. The flowers would indicate that she was not as angry as before. Her confident stance had deflated just a bit. Her eyes held the erstwhile familiar look of concern. But Maura didn't feel she could trust her own judgment on the color of the sky. She could feel herself tremble as Jane took the steps that separated them.

The tall woman stopped in front of her and Maura could see her swallow nervously. Jane raised her hand and awkwardly offered up the flowers. Maura was baffled by the appropriate response. She took the bouquet and handed back the jacket in a peculiar barter of goods.

Jane stared at the garment before recognition came. It was her BPD sweatshirt. Such a simple object but such a complex metaphor. The idea that Maura had worn it, kept track of it and cared enough to return it to Jane made her heart swell with emotions that she felt could not be contained.

"Maura…," Jane's raspy voice broke in the middle of her friend's name. A tear escaped from her lower lid to roll down her cheek. "I…I love you. I want that to be the first thing you hear from me. And I mean I really love you…like you want me to. Or, maybe like you wanted me to before I went all asshole at the time that you needed me most."

The detective carefully studied her friend's face for any hint of a reaction. There was only the momentary dilation of hazel eyes. The rest of her was simply unreadable. Jane wished she had the courage to sweep Maura into a kiss, but emotions were high and Jane was a coward.

"Look, I know I have a lot of explaining to do. Can I…can I just take you home first?"

Maura blinked for a few moments in contemplation. Jane wondered if she was considering the question itself or how she should respond to Jane. At last, she offered up a shallow nod.

Exhaling deeply, Jane tried for a friendly smile, but it was swallowed whole by the chasm that remained between them. Maura looked like she was unsure of what to do next so Jane risked a physical connection by placing a hand on Maura's back to guide her toward the exit. The barely contained lurch twisted her heart painfully, but Jane knew she was on a steep path of reparation. Her own anxiousness manifested itself with nervous chatter.

"I hope you like the flowers. I spent an hour researching what color I was supposed to get. I know that red means love and yellow means friendship, but I guess yellow also means 'I'm sorry,' so I thought I'd start there and see if I can get back to friend after that."

They found Jane's cruiser and headed toward the Callahan Tunnel and into the city. Maura was silently looking out the window as if she hadn't seen the city in a hundred years. Jane understood that it might have felt that way given everything the poor woman endured.

"You must be tired and ready for something that looks and feels familiar. I know when I got back, I couldn't wait to just get into my own clothes again."

"When did you get back, Jane?"

Maura's voice was so soft that Jane almost missed it. And her tone was so wistful that Jane wasn't sure if she was asking her or the universe in general.

"Uh...I got back last Thursday."

"Five days," Maura whispered to herself.

They had worked together far too long for Jane to miss what was going on. Maura was trying to put together the data points that would fill in the gaps in her story. And the case was not looking good for Jane.

"I had to get Sarah back," she offered up knowing the excuse would be as threadbare to Maura as it was to her mother. "I made absolutely sure that you were going to be OK before I left. And I got updates every single day. I just didn't think that…that it would be best for you if I stayed. I was still pretty messed up in the head."

Maura seemed content to let it go at that for now. They exited the freeway and weaved through the familiar streets of Beacon Hill.

"I had a new door key made from mom's. She's dying to see you, but I convinced her to let you get settled. I've spoken to the cruise line. Our luggage should be here by Friday."

Maura continued her placid non-response as if the words swirled benignly around her like fall leaves. She no longer appeared to be thinking. In fact, it looked to Jane that she had settled on a course of action and was passively marking time. That worried the detective. When it came to her introverted friend, a non-reaction was the worst reaction of all.

Jane opened the front door and followed Maura into the house. While she logically needed time to rest and get settled, Jane's gut told her that giving Maura space would be a critical mistake. She needed to stay close and gently push her friend to reveal her intentions.

Maura was standing in the living room with a questioning look.

"Uh, can I get you a glass of wine?"

"It is 2 o'clock in the afternoon."

"You know what they say," Jane grinned "It's 5 o'clock somewhere."

"I'm taking several medications," Maura countered.

"Oh." The reminder of Maura's illness was sobering, to say the least. And it was a reminder that by her own action or that of the universe, she'd almost lost the most valuable, yet neglected, part of her life.

"Coffee is probably not a great idea. How about if I make you some tea? I don't think I can screw that up."

Maura stood patiently until the two cups were poured and placed onto the kitchen island. In a move that spoke volumes about the road ahead, the blonde took her cup and walked it over to the far side of the dining room table. Jane sighed and followed over to sit opposite. She sat quietly while Maura sipped the hot liquid. With a nearly soundless clink, she replaced the cup and looked up with somber eyes. Jane was so lost in the kaleidoscope of gold and green and aqua blue that she jumped when Maura spoke.

"Jane, you said that you were _pretty messed up in the head_ before and now you say you…love me. I don't…I'm not sure…"

Jane reached across to cover fidgeting hands with her own. She was startled by how cold the skin was to the touch. She rubbed softly and prepared herself for the inescapable task of explaining her atrocious behavior back on the island.

"Let me start with the obvious. I'm an idiot and an ass…things you probably already knew." If she was fishing for a defense, she was about to be disappointed. Maura sat quietly waiting for her to continue. "I…the person you saw on the island was terrible. Really terrible. But you shocked me. I mean, I didn't want to be…and I thought that you and I…" Her eyes pleaded with Maura's for understanding, but the doctor could only shake her head.

"OK, look, this is the only way I can explain it…I've spent my whole life trying to convince people I wasn't gay. And I met you and then I think a part of me really wanted to be gay, but since I didn't think that you were gay, I tried to push that part away because I couldn't face…or I knew that I didn't have a chance with you and I didn't want to get my heart broken. I also know that I am guilty of sending you some pretty mixed signals. Since you don't read people too well, I kinda let myself play some games that probably gave you the wrong impression."

"What impression do you want me to have?" Maura asked calmly.

"Uh, well, now I want you to have the impression that I like you," she tucked her chin and muttered under her breath. "…in that sort of way."

"You were so angry with me."

"I know. I know. I was really awful. I thought about it a lot, Maura. You know how I like to be in control. Well, even though I know it was unfair to you, I was in control of how much I let myself…kind of pretend. But when you, uh, crossed that line, you changed the rules on me."

The furrowed brow facing her made it obvious she was going to have to be blunt.

"I didn't want to be gay! But now that I know you are, I have to face that I am. At first that made me really mad, but now I have kinda accepted it and I'm afraid that it's too late and I have ruined everything."

"I'm not gay."

It wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Jane sat up stiff-backed.

"Okaaay…"


	16. Chapter 16

Jane could feel the heat of her blush reddening her cheeks. Her fingers flexed nervously into fists then stretched out wide again like a fan. Had she just tragically misunderstood the past 10 days? Did Maura's massive fever alter her memory or maybe play some cruel switch on her sexual psyche?

"Uh….is this where you tell me you don't like labels or that you prefer bi or pan or quasi sexual?"

"There is no current classification of quasi sexual," Maura lectured sedately. "But essentially, yes, you have it right that I don't subscribe to labels, nor do I identify specifically as gay - or more accurately lesbian."

Jane tilted her head down, looking bashfully up with her eyes, "But you do like _me_ that way, right?"

"I think I made my feelings very clear."

"So…now I think I'm ready to feel the same way," the detective offered hopefully. "I mean I do feel the same way, and I wanna try to see if I can be comfortable, you know, being more _out_ with it."

She wasn't sure exactly what reaction she expected from Maura - anger, joy or anything in between. But every emotion she sent Maura's way seemed to be sucked into a vacuous black hole where nothing escaped in return.

Jane swallowed her fears and tried again for a physical connection. She slowly reached across the table for Maura's hands, this time weaving all ten of her fingers into the doctor's. She grinned in the way she knew would pop her dimples and swaggered her eyes at the blonde. For several moments they just gazed at each other. Jane softly squeezed Maura's hands and caressed the palms with her thumbs. As the intensity grew, Maura's lips parted slightly, her breath coming in shallow pants. Jane could read the attraction quite clearly now. While it thrilled her, it also caused her heart to race more painfully than passionately. What if Maura wanted to kiss her again? Was she ready for that?

She whispered in her rich and raspy voice, "Maybe if we just take things a little slow, we can see…I mean, I can try…"

Maura blinked and immediately pulled her hands away. Jane saw the loving expression on the doctor's face fade like a TV who's power had just been shut off.

Maura got up to clear her tea and left a stunned detective alone at the table. When she was safely in the kitchen behind the large counter, she finally found her voice.

"I'm leaving Boston."

Maura understood that this news would trigger a strong reaction. In the whirlwind of emotions that had coursed through her in the last two hours, she had been actively reconsidering her plans. But that last physical exchange had reacquainted her with Jane's power - the power to pull her in as well as the power to drop her from a cliff.

Maura jumped at the sound of the dining room chair clattering to the floor. Jane had knocked it over when she sprang up to confront Maura across the kitchen console.

"Wait, what!? Come on, Maura. I know I was really horrible on the island. I…I have a lot to make up for, but can't you see I am trying?" It worried Jane that Maura was again eerily calm. If she was furious or hysterical, at least Jane could fight feelings with feelings. But cool, calculated Maura was beyond her. She had reverted back to the cold, logical medical examiner who favored the company of the dead over the living. The friendless professional in her self-imposed emotional exile. And Jane simple didn't have the tools to win that hand.

"Just tell me why…"

"It's the logical decision," Maura sighed. "Boston is where you belong and the PD is your home. It was before I came, and it will be after I leave."

"Will you stop talking like that?" Jane was caught between exasperation and panic. "I don't understand why anyone has to leave. Can't we work this out? I just told you I was willing to try."

"Jane," Maura began as if patiently explaining to a student. "My answer is yes and your answer is maybe. And the question itself goes far beyond you and me. You have some life decisions to make." She paused as if to tuck back the emotions that threatened to leak through her gates. "I learned a very painful lesson on the island. One I do not intend to learn again."

"But…I learned some lessons, too. I was mad because I didn't want to feel the way I felt about you, not because of you, but because you were a woman. And I think I can face that because I don't want to lose you."

"And what if you are wrong? What if you can't have that kind of relationship with me? Where exactly does that leave me?"

"What do you want me to do, try it out with some random chick first to see if I like it?" Unfortunately, Jane's angry sarcasm was easily deflected by the calm, slightly disappointed look from her friend. So she tried another tack. "Tell me this - have you ever…?" The rest of her question was mimed with an awkward waggle of the eyebrows and roll of the eyes.

"Have I ever been intimate with another woman?" Maura patiently translated. "No. I haven't."

That actually surprised the detective a bit. She felt the strength of her case rising. "So then how do you even know that you can…or at least that you want to?"

"I think I am generally less sexually conservative than you. And," she added with resolve. "I know how I feel."

There was silence as the two women once again held each other's gaze. Jane could read the steely seriousness in her friend's eyes. Maura was not playing games, and Jane had better act quickly. Irreversible changes in their relationship were looming. If the detective couldn't convince Maura that her heart was safe with her, she would be out of her life forever.

Jane moved around the kitchen console to stand in front of Maura. She reached out, but the blonde woman took a defensive step backward. Jane's gut reaction was to push, but she knew that she would have to endure the slow pace back to intimacy. After all, Maura was suffering from wounds Jane herself had inflicted.

"Five days," she asserted without question. "Give me five days. Just…don't resign or sell your house or donate Bass to a zoo… Please give me five days."

"I won't be your plaything," Maura warned.

Jane struggled to control her lips from smiling. Adorably awkward comments like that had endeared the beautiful doctor to Jane from the moment they met. And the swell of emotion in Jane's chest was just what she needed. It connected her to the desire she felt. A desire that had been present, but mislabeled, for too many years.

"No. You won't." Brown eyes became intensely fervent. "Look, I do understand what you are saying. And I certainly understand how it would be hard to trust me. But I am not going to lose you."

And then Jane did push. She stepped closer to Maura who had backed herself all the way against the edge of the sink. The brunette reached up and clasped her hands gently to shoulders then smoothed up and down far too skinny arms.

"I love you, Maura Isles. I'm sure of that."

Jane slowly leaned in and placed her lips against the point where silky butterscotch hair met the smooth skin of Maura's temple.

Maura involuntarily closed her eyes when Jane leaned in for the kiss. The warm lips pressed against her skin and lingered for a protracted number of heartbeats. Her steely resolve had hit its limit. She felt flushed and weak and so very drained. Like the adrenaline had finally leached from her system leaving her hollow and unsteady. Her eyes remained closed as she sensed Jane moving away from her and gather her things. The gentle closing of the front door sounded like a cannon to her overstressed limbic system.

Alone again, Maura fell to the floor, leaned back against the cabinets and wept.

* * *

Maura had to admit that Jane was right. It did feel so much better just to be in your own clothes. When the tears had finally run their course, she had taken a long hot bath and slipped into yoga pants and a loose cotton top. Her brain felt like over-pulled taffy and she tried every trick she could to bring it some rest. Music and meditation got her through the long soak. Then she busied herself with the myriad tasks one does after returning from a trip. She sifted through the mail which had been left in her office. Then she checked the house to water plants, clean up after Bass and empty the refrigerator of expired foods.

Now she sat awkwardly tucked against the left side arm of her large sofa. By habit, Jane always sat on the right. Her posture was rigid and tense. She could hear the clock on the bookshelf ticking away. Maura had no idea how long she sat there before there was a soft knock on the back door and the sound of the latch being opened. Apparently, her Rizzoli engagements were not over for the day.

"MAURA!" The Italian matriarch bustled into the kitchen and deposited her crock on one of the burners. She flipped off oven mitts and was around to the living room before Maura could even get herself up off the sofa. The moment she did, she was enveloped in a near-suffocating hug.

"Oh, honey! I'm so glad you are home safe. How are you feeling? I tried to give you some space to get settled, but I didn't think you would be up to cooking so I made you some dinner. Let me look at you!" All of this came out at once as Angela continued to hold her now at arm's length. "Oh my, you are so skinny. Come on, let's eat."

Maura knew from experience that resistance was futile and let herself be lead into the kitchen. In short order, the two women were seated next to each other on the counter stools with plates of food and Angela's favorite fizzy lemonade.

Maura reflected on the contrast between this comfortable intimacy and her last interaction with Jane. That triggered a flood of feelings she was not braced for. Leaving Jane meant leaving much more. She had a life here, too. While she had said that this was Jane's home, the truth was, it was as close to a home as she would ever get herself. And Angela, so much closer to her than her own mother, had brought her food and hugged her tight and was looking at her with such compassion, such genuine caring. It was breaking down Maura's carefully constructed defenses.

"I'm so glad you two are home safe. I guess it was a blessing that I didn't even know what was going on until the day before Jane got home. And then to know you were still in some tropical hospital and see Jane suffering so much. It's the hardest part of being a mother."

"Jane suffering?" Maura asked almost to herself.

Angela hrumphed, "I know my Janie is a brilliant detective, but I swear she can be as dense as a brick sometimes."

Maura stared at Angela calmly eating her food as if the non sequitur was all the explanation that the doctor would need. She raised her own fork to her mouth trying to formulate the next logical question.

"Angela, do you know why Jane left me there in Saint Martin?"

"Because she can be a royal ass!" Angela threw up her arms in frustration. Then she turned in her seat and put a hand on Maura's forearm. "She called the hospital five times a day for updates. I want you to know that. But she was very caught up in herself. And when she gets that way, she makes stupid, insensitive decisions."

Again, Maura hoped there was more information coming. Did Angela know about her unwanted advance? Was she upset about it? What did she mean by Jane being caught up in herself? Her face must have reflected her anxiety and confusion.

"Maura…does it bother you that Jane is a lesbian?"

Hazel green eyes widened like saucers. Did she just hear that correctly? "How…when…"

"Oh no," Angela's face twisted in concern. "Was I not supposed to say anything? She didn't tell you yet? Oh, crap."

"No," Maura tried to reassure her. "We actually did talk about the subject. I just…didn't realize that she had said anything to you."

"Well, like usual, I didn't get many details, but I know that something boiled over on the island. I think I have known…or at least suspected, for a long time. But Jane…she has some real fears about what people think of her. You know that saying - the lady doth protest too much… anyway, she finally admitted it. It wasn't easy, but I think it was really good for her."

"You said she was suffering?"

"It was a big thing for her to realize. But," Angela looked hesitant. "She thinks that she has taken advantage of you."

"Me!?" Maura gasped incredulously. Clearly, Jane had not accurately relayed her transgression in the jungle. None of this made sense.

"Look, I've said too much already. I just want you two to work things out. I can see how much you love each other.." With that, Angela cleared her plate and vanished leaving a stunned Maura alone yet again.

Her fatigued brain attempted to sort through the fragments of new information. Yes, Jane had told her that she loved her, that she loved her romantically. But Maura read the hesitation as uncertainty or maybe even reluctance. And she knew she could not survive another rejection if Jane found the path too difficult or simply changed her mind.

But this new piece of evidence was telling. Jane really didn't like to talk about herself - rarely to Maura, under duress to the department psychologist and never, ever to Angela Rizzoli. Yet, she had admitted this new realization of her attraction to women, something that her mother said was not a surprise. Maybe Jane's resolve was more substantial than Maura gave her credit for.

Jane had asked for 5 days.

Maura would keep the walls around her heart firmly in place, but she would give Jane her time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Day 1**

Maura was an early riser.

On normal days, Maura was an early riser.

But, even though she was back in Boston, back in her house, back in her bed, things just didn't feel normal. She wondered if they ever would. So she did the unthinkable - hit the snooze button - then rolled back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling in anxious contemplation.

Last month she had read a journal piece about self-awareness. It was used as a feedback tool for chronic pain management. The concept was that stepping away from the pain to observe it in the third person allowed the patient to separate from the feelings and achieve a more objective view.

She considered if it would work with emotional pain as well.

Maura took a deep, cleansing breath and tried to step away from herself to visualize what she was feeling. It was not easy. The exercise was terribly abstract, something that had never been her strong suit. Nonetheless, she concentrated on her breath until an image began to form. And it was…spaghetti, or maybe a tangled knot of wires. At first, the result seemed like an absurd failure. Neural nonsense. But she recalled that the article counseled patients to relax rather than struggle to control the experience. Maura tried to temper her analytical reflex and interpret the abstraction.

Slowly, she began to understand. The crippling weight that hung in her chest and sapped her physical, mental and emotional energy was, in fact, a tangle of spaghetti. Each strand represented a different - and sometimes conflicting - state of being.

Her love for Jane. Her fear of being rejected. Her anger at Jane's behavior. Her hope that there could be a magical happy ending. Her sadness at the prospect of leaving. Her remorse at having instigated this mess. Her surprise at Jane's admission. Her anticipation of Jane's plan. Her apprehension of returning to work.

Every emotion was twisted and woven amongst the others making them nearly impossible to separate. It wasn't exactly comforting, but at least the exercise helped Maura understand why her feelings were so difficult to sort out. She was finding it hard to determine how she felt because she was actually feeling many things at once. Seeing the futility of teasing through the filaments supported her decision to let time and tide run its course. Five days.

* * *

It was 12:16 pm. Maura knew this because it was the ninth time she had checked the clock in the last half hour. She had made it to the morgue roughly on time considering the late start she had gotten. Kent was surprised to see her. He had innocently barged into her office in search of a file and jumped in fright when she looked up from her desk. No one had anticipated that she would be back to work so soon.

The medical examiner congratulated herself on tolerating a full 15 minutes of inquiry about her trip, hospital stay and the state of her recovery before she firmly directed the conversation toward their pending caseload and priorities. All the while she sipped the coffee that had been left on her desk by Jane. Given the temperature, she'd missed Jane by more than an hour. There was also a note saying she would stop down for lunch…which brought about the frequent time checks.

Now 12:37, the elevators outside her office dinged open and familiar boots clomped hurriedly her direction. She looked up to see the flustered detective enter.

"Maura, I'm so sorry. I couldn't break free to tell you something earlier. I can't make it to lunch. God, this has been the morning from Hell."

"Oh," the doctor tried to hide her disappointment. Did she feel disappointment? Yes, she thought she actually did. "I reviewed all of the pendings. Did a new case come in?"

"Huh? No…I…uh…have a doctor's appointment."

Maura stood up in alarm but stayed behind her desk. In her inquiries about the rescue, no one had mentioned that Jane or Sarah had been hurt. "Are you OK? Were you injured on the island?"

"No…no." Jane rocked anxiously on her feet. "I have an appointment with a psychologist. I wanted to get in to see someone as soon as possible and Dr. Truitt had a cancellation at one o'clock today."

"A psychologist?" Maura could hardly believe this revelation. It would take a direct order from the Lieutenant and the threat of a desk job to get Jane to a therapist and even then kicking and screaming. Jane had just said she wanted to see someone as soon as possible.

The detective glanced back to confirm the hallway and lab area were empty. "Yeah, uh…I think it would be a good idea to talk to someone about my, uh, life changes."

The doctor blinked several times unsure exactly how to even respond. This was certainly out of character. Encouragement, she thought, was likely a safe route. "I'm sure that a professional will be able to help guide you through some of the choices in front of you."

Jane took a step forward and looked at the blonde earnestly. "I said changes, not choices. I know who I am." Maura was taken aback by her firmness. "I do." The raspy voice softened. "The fact that I was a 'Class A' asshole when you called me on it, doesn't change the facts. It is very important to me that I am not an asshole any more…especially with you."

"Jane…"

"No, look, I am going to own it. I can't lose you, Maura. I know I don't deserve another chance with you, but if you are going to give me one, I sure as shit am not going to take any chances of screwing things up again. I'm sorry about lunch. I will make it up to you as soon as I can."

And with a charming smile, the detective turned on her heel and was out the door.

Maura stood for another five minutes simply trying to assimilate this new information. Jane Rizzoli, who was loathe to ask for help even when storming a warehouse full of bad guys, was voluntarily going to a mental health professional because she didn't want to lose her.

For better or for worse, Maura would be left to contemplate her feelings for the balance of the day. Shortly after lunch, she'd heard that the team of detectives had been called out to support a sting operation in South Boston. It didn't stop her from glancing at the doors each time the elevator chimed. Jane had texted several times, but Maura could not bring herself to ask Jane for any details about her appointment. By 6 pm, the exhaustion of a first day back had won out and she headed back to Beacon Hill.

Entering her quiet home, she considered the jumble of relief and apprehension that came with disengaging the few living people she dealt with in a day. By design, her life was mostly filled with microscopes and dead bodies. She was used to being alone. But her life in Boston had become so different from the previous thirty years. And the absence of her best friend didn't leave her alone. It left her lonely.

She wandering into the kitchen and was faced with another example of her self-imposed isolationism. Bass was resting by the refrigerator soaking in the heat from the floorboard exhaust. Normal people had dogs and cats - animals that expressed and responded to emotional connections. According to Jane, she cared for something that was only a half step up from a pet rock.

Maura slumped against the counter and hugged herself. The mental exhaustion was far more taxing than her physical recovery. The cuts were treated with ointments, the infections treated with antibiotics. What was the treatment for emotional turmoil?

Maura then noticed the covered plate on the countertop. Angela, ever the doting surrogate mom, had left dinner for her. Somehow it seemed fitting that it was spaghetti.

* * *

 **Day 2**

"Are you writing a novel or something?"

"Yes, it's a guide to surviving stakeouts with flatulent, old men."

"Very funny."

Jane was sitting on the passenger side of the cruiser with her back angled awkwardly against the door so she could write in private. This wasn't exactly how she wanted to do this, but when last night's stakeout turned into this morning's continuation, she had few options. Time was ticking on her self-imposed deadline and she had some progress to make.

There had been something about the look in Maura's eyes when she met her at the airport that cut Jane to the quick. The fight was gone. It was as if Maura had reached across the chessboard and resolutely knocked her own king over - surrendering the match. But her demeanor was as if the surrender was somehow inevitable.

Jane knew that her friend's life had been a series of disappointing endgames. Fresh, new starts that led to preordained conclusions. Conclusions that Maura blamed herself for. Her awkwardness, her peculiarities, her inadequacies. Family, lovers, friends - they would all eventually reject her. Just as she had thought that Jane had. What Maura couldn't see was that Jane's reaction was, in fact, a rejection of herself. It was the defense of denial. Until she could no longer deny. That white hot light of truth was cleansing, but it was meaningless if it meant the light of her life went out.

The appointment with Dr. Truitt had been a real challenge. Her explanation of why she was there was clumsy at best. But the psychologist had been patient. It helped that Jane was finished beating around the bush. She historically operated in only two modes - abject procrastination and tenacious alacrity. Storming confidently into the doctor's office, she was a woman on a mission and looking for the 10-step plan that would get her to her goal. Of course, Truitt had slammed the breaks on that idea. Something about mental associations and cued behaviors that needed to be broken and reformed. Whatever that meant didn't sound like a short process. But she the did have some time to talk about initial steps. Jane actually smirked when the therapist suggested journaling - it was so Maura… but alas, not 24 hours later, the recalcitrant detective was scribbling away.

It came in the form of a one-sided conversation.

 _Most of me really wishes that the cruise and the island 'vacation' never happened. I can't remember a time when I felt so out of control. (Well, I can remember a time, but I am blocking that out right now. One mental crisis at a time.) On the other hand, I feel like it was a breaking point that I have been heading toward for most of my life. And now I am kind of relieved. I know that sounds like selfish good news for me given everything that you had to go through._

 _Do you remember on the cruise how you told me I had the people-pleasing gene? I told you you were crazy to think that. I think I even got a little mad. That's because you aren't fooled by my bullshit. You think you can't relate to people, but then you know me like no one in my whole life ever has. You were right (don't let it go to your head). The thing is…oh boy, here it comes…I don't think I am any good as a person. I mean, not that I am a bad person, but I just don't think I have very much value, certainly not like you. So yes, I spend my time trying to please people to compensate. And that means trying to be what they expect me to be._

 _For Frankie, that is strong and confident. For Dad, that is successful. For Mom, well that's where the trouble begins. I failed at everything. I couldn't make myself like pink. I couldn't wear dresses. I had (still have) the manners of a slob. I thought the one thing I could try to do was find a husband. It's not that I was very successful, but at least I kept myself on that path. No matter what assumptions people made about me, I stayed at it. Even though it was the wrong path for me._

 _From the moment we met, I should have known I was playing with fire. Being with you was so natural, so right, but also like no relationship I had ever had. I think I let my guard down and over time everything slowly became blurred. Our friendship had become so twisted up that it was hard for me to know what feelings were yours and what was just something of my own making._

 _My uncle Tony used to always tell me there are two ways to learn - the easy way and the hard way. The hard way was hard because it usually came with consequences. I swear I can't seem to learn any other way. But I can also tell you that I NEVER have to learn twice. When I think back about what those consequences could have been - how sick you were - and the idea of losing you now - I hope I haven't lost the opportunity to learn this lesson because I think it might be the most important one of my life._

 _I'm scared. (Whew, that was hard to write) But I'm not scared for the reasons that you probably think. I understand that you want to protect yourself from your feelings so you don't get hurt again. My problem is I can't protect myself. Now that I see - now that I understand - the feelings I have are completely overwhelming. And all I can do is hope that you don't treat me like I deserve._

* * *

 **Day 3**

The paper floated back to the desk where Maura had found it under the gift of morning coffee. She felt a heavy weight on her chest. It made it hard to breathe. Her lungs expanded in quick, shallow gasps. Burning eyes flooded with tears. The spaghetti strands of feelings were pulling into a tight oppressive knot. But there was one strand that was new, and it was fighting its way loose.

That strand was hope.


	18. Chapter 18

Maura's heart skipped a beat when the ME van pulled past the police tape and up to the driveway of a house cluttered with uniformed officers and several detectives in suits. One of those suits was a feminine cut and adorned the tall, sable-haired woman who had been the subject of her tears just hours before.

The van stopped, but the medical examiner was slow to dismount. Instead, she took a moment to study the scene in front of her. Jane was wearing her suit jacket, but the sleeves were pushed up. It was a habit that made her look deceptively casual when she was clearly in charge. The detective's hands were notched in her pockets and she was laughing with her colleagues. Maura thought back to the journal entry she'd read and marveled at Jane's ability to endure so tumult on the inside yet project such…normalcy…to the outside world. It was a skill that Maura lacked.

The doctor took a deep, centering breath and made her way toward the crowd. She forced herself to keep her chin up and not portray too obviously the nervousness she felt. Her eyes darted around skittishly until they locked on to the chocolate brown orbs heading her way.

"Hey, Maura. I didn't expect you on this one. Supposed to be a routine heart attack." Jane fell into step next to her. Maura, hyper-aware, was careful not to flinch when the detective put a supporting hand on her elbow as she navigated the walk in her heels.

"I needed to get out of the lab for a bit." She offered.

It was true that Maura was just looking for a spot of fresh air. Not to mention that she wanted to distract herself with work after the emotional rush of the morning. She should have calculated that she had a 20% chance of running into Jane as one of the 5 teams that would be out on a call. This was the first time that they would be working together since their return. If Jane was not going to make the scenario awkward, Maura would have to try to do the same.

Up the stairs and into the master bedroom, she was led to an elderly man who was slumped in the doorway of the adjoining bath. Blood on the frame and an open contusion on the back of his head seemed to tell a story. Maura began her mental countdown and she was not disappointed.

"Had a heart attack on the way to the john and hit his head." The detective offered, not as a question.

Maura continued to appraise the subject carefully. "It seems the medical degree and 10 years of training were a wasted effort. You have it all figured out."

Her tone was light, borderline playful, and she glanced up at Jane to make sure it was received as intended. Jane was clearly was taken aback by the sarcasm but recovered quickly.

"Yeah, well, you are just here for the big words and the signatures on the forms."

The remaining hour and a half at the scene went without incident. Which is to say that working alongside the detective, working together with all of her colleagues was not the tense, uncomfortable experience that she had predicted. In some ways, it was comforting to see that life simply moved forward. Still, the decisions she thought she had made, the unexecuted plan she had to leave Boston, left her feeling unsettled and anxious. There was so much to think about.

* * *

By 3:30 pm, Jane just couldn't take it anymore. She was on pins and needles wondering if the decision to let Maura read her journal entry was going to help or hurt her case. She didn't know what kind of reaction she was going to get or if Maura had even read it yet. Maybe she was going to wait until after work. Jane's initial surprise at seeing the ME at the scene earlier was followed by a covert attempt to determine if it had been read. She should have known that the doctor would be her impeccable, professional self out in the field. She didn't offer a single clue.

Now Jane was rocking nervously at the elevator bank waiting for the car to take her down to the morgue.

She found Maura alone in the dimmed autopsy suite. Her minions were busy in the lab staring into microscopes and squirting things into Petrie dishes. The detective sauntered through the bay doors feigning nonchalance. _God, not the black scrubs,_ Jane thought to herself. But this time, she savored the warm, tingling feeling that fluttered through her chest finally seeing it for what it was. Maura's hair was pulled back to show sparkling diamond studs and purple nitrile gloves disappeared into their subject's chest cavity. It was by any measure an odd thing to describe as sexy, but there it was.

They had all suspected the old guy had a heart attack. Jane had contacted his daughter in New York and she confirmed that he had a medical history that put him on no fewer than 6 prescriptions. The obvious thing would have been to yank the guy's heart out and cut to the chase. But Jane knew full well that Maura would be doing this by the book. That meant weighing organs, running the bowls and taking tissue samples. By whatever convention she could not imagine the reason for, heart and brain were always last in an autopsy.

Jane got within four feet of the operating table before hazel eyes raised up to meet hers.

 _Eyes are the mirror to the soul._ It was a truism the detective relied on on a daily basis. Her way of validating the truth of what was said or discerning what was unsaid. It was the most expressive, revealing part of a person and reading eyes was a skillset she had honed for years. Jane looked into the kaleidoscope of green, blue and gold and saw what she desperately needed. The first look said startled at being approached unknowingly. That faded quickly as recognition set in. Then there was a warmth that said the detective was a welcome sight. Finally, there was the serious, empathetic gaze that showed awareness.

"Hey," Jane offered softly not wanting to disturb the quiet room.

Maura nodded but did not immediately speak. It was as if she was reaching for the right place to start. The doctor opted for the safety of science.

"I'm just finishing up here and then I will dissect the heart. He was a smoker, and there is hepatic steatosis, so the evidence is consistent with your field diagnosis."

"Well, two years of community college and about 200 cases worked must _not_ have been a wasted effort," she teased.

Maura appeared to take the volley in good form.

"How are you feeling?" Jane inquired.

"I'm fine. Still a bit tired and I can't say my appetite has returned. Although, I should probably concentrate on consuming some extra calories."

"Well, I have the perfect solve for that." Janes pounced on the opening. "The guys wanted to get together tonight at the Robber. I gave them the short version of our adventure, but I think they want to kinda celebrate the fact that we made it back OK."

Now Maura's eyes were showing anxiety, a little fear. Jane knew that she would opt for solitude given the chance, but she had to keep the blonde from retreating. She had to keep her connected to the people and things that tied her to Boston.

"Come on. What better way to get back to fighting weight than with a burger and fries?"

Maura looked to be formulating an excuse, so Jane moved for the close. "We said we'd be there at 6. I'll swing by around 5:30 and pick you up." She retreated without waiting for an answer.

* * *

In the two hours since Jane left, Maura had finished the autopsy, showered and changed, and was sitting at her desk putting the final touches on her report. Yes, she smiled to herself, the man had had a massive heart attack. And the contusion on his head offered no hint of foul play. Six hours after Jane's initial prediction, she could offer the concrete evidence that the detective's guess was right. Jane would gloat for sure.

Maura grabbed her sweater and decided to meet Jane in the lobby. A not too uncomfortable silence filled the short ride to their neighborhood bar. Korsak, Frost, and Frankie had a table and beers were already cluttering the space in front of them.

The men rose from their chairs in greeting. Jane was always one of the guys, but their manners seemed to ratchet up a notch when the doctor was present. Drinks and food were ordered and they all settled in to talk. Maura was surprised again at the ease she felt. Whatever the turmoil running through her, these were her friends and they were happy to just hang out together. They asked a few questions about the drama on the island. Jane gave short answers and steered the conversation to sports. Maura was thankful that the weighty topic of her and Jane's…development…would be circumvented. But, alas, she was wrong about that.

The waitress had cleared the plates, including Maura's devoured cheeseburger, and returned with a round of refills. At a natural break in the conversation, Jane took a gulp of pale ale and leveled the glass sharply on the table.

"Hey, guys. There is something I want to tell you."

Maura's heart rate tripled, but she had no time to prepare before the next words were out of the brunette's mouth.

"You guys are my closest friends and I haven't been honest with you," she began. "I guess the truth is that I haven't been honest with myself. So, I have changed the second part and figure I had better come clean on the first part."

"What is it, Jane?" Korsak coaxed encouragingly.

In her meeting with Dr. Truitt, Jane had touched on the topic of how to inform her friends and family about her new understanding. The psychologist had told Jane that coming out about your sexuality was rarely a controlled event. It wasn't usually something that you could parse out in the time and manner you felt most comfortable. Once the subject was broached, it tended to take on a life of its own. Jane knew that she needed to act swiftly to stay ahead of the one-woman press brigade that was her mother.

She took a focused breath and spoke confidently. "I'm gay."

If it had not been for the stone cold sober look on her face, Frost might have guffawed with laughter. He had seen her endure many homophobic slurs from suspects, witnesses and other cops. It was an assumption she had always pushing harshly back on. But, this admission seemed easy and self-assured. Clearly, it wasn't a punchline. Frost looked from Jane to Korsak and then three sets of male eyes leveled on Maura.

The doctor for her part had her jaw open in a clear sign of shock. This was terribly confusing to the men at the table. Whether or not they expected the news from Jane, once it was out, they seemed to think that Maura was holding the other shoe to be dropped.

Reading confusion on the doctor's face, Frost asked the obvious question. "Did you not know this Dr. Isles?"

Maura held the deer in headlight pose for another couple of seconds and then shook her head as if clearing from a trance. "Uh…yes, Detective Frost. Jane and I have touched on the subject."

When it was clear she was not prepared to offer anything further, the three men focused back on Jane with general comments of support. Frost kept glancing her way with a look of concern.

"What gives, Frankie?" Interjected Korsak. "You don't seem too surprised by this news."

"Nah," the younger Rizzoli flashed a grin at his sister. "She told me about it last night. It's cool. Love is love. Right?"

"Where did you find that? In a fortune cookie?" Frost needled him.

And that was about all there was to it. The conversation drifted quickly back to sports like there hadn't even been a shifting of tectonic plates. Maura, accustomed to being sidelined in discussions of Boston baseball trades, was left to digest what she had just witnessed. Was it really as simple as it all seemed to just play out? And Jane had made this about all her, without even a hint of _them_. The behavior challenged all of the conclusions that Maura had drawn about her friend. _Assumptions_ , she corrected herself. She had made assumptions about Jane.

Her musings were interrupted when Jane excused herself from the table. Frost leaned her direction and asked quietly, "Dr. Isles, are you…not OK…with this news about Jane?"

"Why do you say that?" She couldn't stop the defensiveness in her tone.

"You just look like something is bothering you. This isn't going to change things between you and Jane, is it?"

Now how in the hell was she going to answer that? Everything was changing.

"I hope that Jane and I will always be good friends." Maura held her breath against the hives. While it was a clear deflection from her thoughts, it was still technically true. She hoped that her autoimmune system was willing to concede the point. Perhaps a tougher critic, Frost drilled her with a skeptical look. His fear and admiration for the doctor would not eclipse the loyalty he had for his partner. While his glare made her uneasy, Maura was glad that Jane was surrounded by steadfast friends and family.

Jane's return seemed to trigger the break up of the party. It was a Thursday night so no one expected things to run too late. The guys offered supportive hugs to the lanky detective and reiterated how glad they were that the two of them were home safe. When Jane and Maura were the only ones left, the doctor reached for her phone.

"I just need to call a cab."

"No, don't be silly," Jane put her hand over the screen. "Let me drive you back."

It was only a couple of blocks back to the precinct. They could easily make it there in silence just as they had on the way over. But Maura felt a guilty weight on her chest. Jane had taken such risks, had shown such an effort that Maura felt there needed to be some reciprocity on her end.

"Jane," she asked nervously. "Could we maybe drive over to the park and talk for a bit?"

The request caught Jane off guard and she quickly fumbled. She was rabid at the idea for them to have some time alone but got tripped up in the practical "Uh, it's kinda of dark. Don't you think?"

Hypersensitive to rejection of any kind, Maura quickly retreated. "Yes. You are right. I'm sorry. You should just take me to my car."

Shit, Jane thought to herself. Back up..and quickly. "No, I want to talk. Really. Let's just head over to the swan pond. It's pretty well lit over there."

Silence reclaimed the car until Jane found street parking on the west end. She hopped out and opened the door for the dress-clad blonde. They made their way like nervous teenagers to the benches by the water's edge.

"Jane…"

"Maura…"

They both began at once.


	19. Chapter 19

The hug was more than cathartic. It was rejuvenating. Jane had her long arms wrapped around Maura's skinny frame and her nose buried into golden locks that smelled like lavender and felt like silk. They held each other tightly pressing every possible inch of their bodies into the warmth. Even their breathing had achieved a synchronous harmony.

As hugs go, this one lasted longer than a typical embrace. Both women were reluctant to disconnect from the bond that had been tentatively reformed. Frayed nerves calmed as they steeped in soothing closeness.

But the late hour and infernal buzzing of fluorescent garage lights ultimately sobered them up.

"I should let you go," the husky voice of the brunette offered reluctantly.

Maura stepped back and nodded, equally reluctant. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"And," Jane added slyly. "I will see you tomorrow night."

* * *

The pond area of the park delivered on lighting, but it couldn't temper the chill that had filled the air. The women sat on the bench and crossed arms and legs in an effort to conserve heat.

"Jane…"

"Maura…"

They both began at once.

After a chuckle, the detective nodded toward the doctor to proceed. There was so much she wanted to say to Maura, but she knew the value in letting her friend take the lead. It would help her understand where the blonde's concerns laid. It would let her know the fears she still needed to allay.

"Why are you doing all of this?"

The brunette took a moment to sort her thoughts. It was a broad question. "The _why_ is because it's the truth. And clearly, I have spent way too long trying to pretend it is not. Maybe not pretend, but at least pushing that side of me away so I never had to address it. The _why now_ is because none of it really matters without you."

"So, if not for me then you wouldn't be coming out as a lesbian?"

Jane chuckled, "My mother essentially asked me the same thing. No, I probably wouldn't…but it also doesn't mean it wouldn't be true."

"When you told them at the Dirty Robber, the guys all looked at me…"

"I know. Frankie asked me outright when I told him last night."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him this was about me, not you." Then she added, "But, he also asked me what type of woman I was attracted to. And, let's just say, the description might sound a little familiar."

Maura couldn't help but take the bait. "Tell me what you said."

"Well," Jane espoused dramatically. "She would have to be a professional woman. I'm not into those pretty airheads. But…I do still have my standards. She would be beautiful…kind and generous…tolerant enough to deal with me…and interested in a hundred things I have never even heard of before."

She was thrilled to see the first genuine smile grace the doctor's face.

"And she would be forgiving." She added.

"Hmm," the ME tried to sound discerning.

"What else is on your mind," Jane prompted. "I really want to know," she added at the cautious look she was getting.

"Your mom…she said that you thought you had taken advantage of me. Why?"

Jane huffed out a breath. They were headed toward the thick of it.

"Because I know better," she confessed. "Friends…even best friends…don't treat each other the way we do, Maura. They don't have sleepovers. They don't live in each other's personal space. They don't look at each other the way we do…hell, how many times have we actually pretended to _be_ a couple? I know you haven't had many friends. And maybe you are a little socially...challenged…but subconsciously or not, I let that all happen. I encouraged it. Because I wanted it. I wanted to be able to act like your girlfriend and know that you were none the wiser."

Maura's brows knit with thought. "But you said you didn't know yourself. When I…kissed you…you were enraged. That doesn't make sense."

"I know," Jane let out a suppressed sigh. "It goes back to what I wrote in the journal. I thought I was trying to convince the world that I was a normal person, but I was just trying to convince myself. When you kissed me, it meant I couldn't hide anymore. And right then, in the middle of everything, I just couldn't handle it. So…typical Jane, I lashed out."

"You think being with me allowed you to eat your cake?"

"Huh…?"

"When you were with me, you could allow yourself to emulate a lesbian relationship without having to admit to yourself…or others…what your sexual identity really was - to have it both ways."

 _Have your cake and eat it, too._ Jane solved the cryptic riddle. "Yeah. I guess that just about sums it up. But…why did you try to kiss _me_?"

Now it was Maura's turn to flinch under the spotlight. "I'm not naive," she confessed. "And I don't think I'm as innocent as you think. I know that I flirt with you. We've…we've been doing it for so long."

The blonde began to trail off. Jane reached out and squeezed her arm in encouragement. "I knew you didn't…or…wouldn't…" Maura sighed heavily. "I was the one taking advantage of you. My…feelings have always been there, but I…controlled them. By the time you found me on the island…Jane, I had been through so much. And then I knew I had made a terrible mistake."

"I made the mistake," Jane interrupted. "You're my best friend, Maura. Even if I didn't understand, I let my anger blind me. Jesus, you were so sick. I could have lost you."

Tears welling in brown eyes triggered matching ones in hazel.

"Where do we go from here?"

This time Jane reached for hands and squeezed gently.

"You promised me two more days. Tomorrow is Friday. Let me take you out." She asked hopefully. But the message on Maura's face was more than hesitation. "What is it?"

"I'm scared, Jane. It hurt so badly." Twin streams of tears cascaded down Maura's flushed cheeks. "I'm afraid to let those feelings take hold. If you reject me again…I…I couldn't…"

The detective rose sharply and pulled the ME up to stand in front of her. "God, Maura. I am so sorry I hurt you. The reason I started with the therapist, the reason I told Ma and the guys…I needed you to see that I was stable in this…you know, that I'm OK with being gay. But I work in a job that trains you to not make promises to loved ones that you don't have control over. I love you, Maura. I wish I could promise you that I wasn't going to be an asshole again. I wish I could promise that I would never hurt you. We…we both have to risk here."

Maura felt like she could drown in the feelings radiating off of the woman standing so earnestly in front of her. She closed her eyes and imagined the spaghetti strands. Hurt and love were tangled so tightly together. Jane was right. There could be no promises.

"Where are you taking me?"

Jane was momentarily flummoxed by the shift. "Uh, I don't know yet. Does it matter?"

There was not even the hint of mirth in the doctor's serious reply. "I have to plan my outfit."

A few minutes later, they were headed back to the parking garage and Maura's waiting car.

 **Day 4**

This time the gift of morning coffee was hand delivered.

The easiness between the women had returned, but it was spiced with the anticipation of that evening's date. Maura motioned for the detective to have a seat while they sipped their beverage.

"What's new upstairs?"

"Well," Jane began tentatively. "I've been keeping an eye on the wires for news about the kidnapping. Senator Markey is about to be arrested and charged with 6 felony counts - fraud, money laundering, conspiracy."

"That's so sad. I never got to see Sarah after the airlift. Was she OK?"

"Yeah. She's a tough cookie. But also pretty clueless about why she would be involved in all this. Something tells me they are not a typical close family. I took her back to New York. Her parents didn't even come to meet her. Still, I hate to know that her life is about to be turned upside down again. I guess she has her grandparents."

"What about the men who kidnapped her?"

"Well, that's where it gets real interesting. The goon squad was not after money. It was a blackmail deal. And it turns out that Mark Lansing was the on the payroll of Jack Donovan who Senator Markey was about to face in his runoff."

"Mark Lansing?"

There was an unquestionable snarl in response. "A.K.A Dennis."

The look of fear on Maura's face brought an instant reaction from the detective. She leaned forward toward the doctor's desk.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, not like that." The ME set her coffee down and slumped back into her chair. She looked intensely at the other woman. "I just don't think I am ready to talk about it yet."

Jane realized that there was a lot she didn't know about what happened to Maura before she found her. How did she even get to the island? What happened to her on the boat? These were painful puzzle pieces that wouldn't surface easily between them.

"Well forget about him for now. He's gone and the state of New York is going to have to figure out how to reboot the Republican Party."

* * *

Shortly thereafter, they went their separate ways - Maura trying to catch up on the accumulated paperwork from her extended absence, and Jane trying to speed up time until she could reasonably round up to the weekend.

Around 3:30 pm, the detective was searching for an energy boost. She had resorted to a trip into the cafe where the toll was a conversation with her mother.

"I'm happy for you, Janie." The matriarch smiled genuinely. It was as if her daughter had transformed in the last 24 hours. Sure, she was the same snarky, moody, foul-mouthed, immature, grown-up kid. But the anger, the insecurity, the anguish she had been exposed to on Jane's return and revelation was all but gone. More comfortable in her own skin was the only way Angela could describe it.

"Yeah, well. Talk to me tomorrow." She retorted. "I've got a big date tonight."

A huge smile split Angela's face. She was about to demand details when she noticed a uniformed officer leaning impatiently against the counter. His face was in a scowl, and he glared at Jane shaking his head back and forth.

"You got some problem?" The elder Italian demanded.

"I got no problem," he countered to the woman then turned toward her daughter. "Just keep the garbage to yourself, Rizzoli. You don't hear the rest of us flaunting our sex life."

Jane was confused. She'd just said she had a date. She didn't say with whom. Officer Cooper, his name tag read, clearly implied he had more information. She knew word of her status would inevitably spread, but she had only told the guys last night. Jane couldn't make herself believe that Frankie, Frost or Korsak would have come in today and make her the topic of gossip. There was only one other explanation.

"You still hung over from last night?" She poked at him.

"No, we cleared out of the place after you and your rainbow party stunk up the joint. I can't believe they let you into homicide. At least now you check two boxes on the freaking affirmative action list. Maybe that means you'll be the only female or freak we have to deal with."

"I'll deal with you right now, you piece of…" Jane had grabbed her mom by the waist as she launched herself toward the now startled cop. "Let me go, Jane!"

"Come on, Ma. Don't bother with him." She mollified. "When you go on _your_ date with Lieutenant Cavanaugh, you don't want to have to explain how one of his junior officers wound up with a pastry in his ass."

The thinly veiled threat hit its mark. Officer Cooper leveled a final FU stare at the detective but was smart enough to leave before his hole got any bigger.

Jane watched him exit then turned back to her steaming parent.

"How can you just take that?"

"It's going to get a lot worse."

"It's not right. What year is it? And this is Boston for god's sake, not…Arkansas!"

Jane couldn't help but chuckle at her mom's ire on her behalf.

"What's funny about this, Jane? Why aren't you upset?"

"Because there are two ways I can handle this," she reasoned. "I can deck him and end up with a 2-week suspension. Or I can keep my cool and come in one day holding hands with the gorgeous doctor I know he has been lusting after for the last six months."

A proud grin lit Angela's eyes. "You are no fool, Janie."

The brunette got up from the tall chair and hugged her mom. "Yeah, well I will be if I don't get ready for this date tonight."

With a wink and a smile, the spirited detective was out the door.


	20. Chapter 20

Maura opened the door.

For the second time inside of a week, Jane was standing before her holding a bouquet. This time, the yellow roses shared space with deep red ones. Hazel eyes dilated at the sight of the woman holding the flower offering. Jane was wearing one of three little black dresses that Maura knew to be in her wardrobe. It wasn't the one with a high neck and long lace sleeves. It wasn't the sleeveless draped bodycon. It was the hip-hugging sheath with the deep v-neck, v-back that the doctor knew was the brunette's pull-out-all-the-stops impact choice.

"Jane," Maura's voice cracked just enough to telegraph her surprise. "You wore a dress! You look incredible."

"Yeah, well. I'm a lesbian, not a cliché," the brunette tried to sound confident.

Maura snickered lightly. "As I have said before, you look gorgeous. Come in so I can put those in water."

Jane entered the apartment and stood awkwardly in the foyer while Maura searched for a vase. She had certainly lost count of the number of times she'd been in the doctor's home, most often barging in without so much as a knock. But tonight, everything felt crisp and new. She handed the flowers to Maura and swallowed as she watched her effortlessly navigate the kitchen in 5-inch heels. The doctor wore a deep purple dress with black leather shoulders that Jane could not match to her Rolodex memory of the ME's outfits.

"What were your plans for tonight?"

Jane shook herself from gawking just as the svelte figure turned her way. "I made reservations at No.9. You had said you wanted to try it. I wasn't sure if you wanted to walk or drive."

"That's lovely, Jane. Thank you. I think I'd like to walk."

The restaurant was about a half mile away on the northeast corner of the Common. It offered French-Italian fare with a European feel that seemed like the natural habitat for the sophisticated Dr. Isles. The women strolled through Beacon Hill at a leisurely pace and were seating with glasses of red wine some 30 minutes later. A lingering apprehension kept their discussion on the neutral topics of the weather, random work details and then the menu placed in front of them.

Once they had ordered and the waiter had disappeared, they knew that heavier topics would have to be broached.

"Jane," Maura instigated. "I am surprised and proud of how you have handled the discovery of your sexuality. But, I am concerned about how you connect it to feelings of inadequacy. Is that something that you will be discussing with your therapist?"

Jane stared at the blonde replaying the question as if parsing the words slowly might help her understand it.

Maura tried again. "Do you feel that being a lesbian means you are letting your family and friends down?"

"Oh, uh, not really anymore," she explained. "You know things have changed a bunch since I was a teenager. When I first started thinking about relationships, it was a pretty known thing being gay was bad news. Remember, I was raised in the Catholic Church."

"So homosexuality was not supported in your community?"

"It wasn't really supported anywhere," Jane insisted. "And because I was a jock, people used it as a way to tease and belittle me. So I pushed back…hard. It was a survival thing."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"I think so. Identifying as gay was used as a derogatory slur. You were conditioned to rebuke the notion even if it rang true to your actual feelings. But more so, I think that negative re-enforcement repressed your natural sexual development."

"Geez, Maur. You have a way of making everything sound like a terminal disease."

"Quite the contrary." The blonde smiled. "You seem to have cured yourself on this one. I'm curious how you seemed to do it so easily."

"Easily?" The detective was incredulous. "You missed the meltdown with Ma and the 12 hours of wandering through the city with a migraine from thinking too hard."

"I'm sorry," Maura demurred. "I don't mean to diminish what you have gone through."

Jane reached across the table and gasped the hand that had been fidgeting with a wineglass. "There is one thing for sure, and that is that you have no reason to apologize. I…I don't think I will ever forgive myself for how I treated you. Part of me wants to just let you go so you can find people…someone…who is worthy of the person that you are."

"Jane," Maura interrupted. "You are…but that was my original question. Why do _you_ think you are so unworthy?"

The detective was once again saved by the waiter. The heaviness of the conversation was broken by the arrival of their meals. Jane had insisted that the too skinny Maura order pasta. She had opted for ribeye once Maura had explained what all of the overly complicated side dishes were.

The two women took a few moments to sample their plates. Jane was now on her third glass of wine which was having some effect on the usual beer drinker.

"You were right," she blurted out suddenly.

Maura questioned with her eyes but allowed the brunette to find the words at her own pace.

"Back on the boat when you said that I have the people-pleasing gene." She pressed on. "I work really, really hard and take risks because I am afraid that people will…what did you say?… _derogatory_ _me_... I am so aggressive so that people can't attack me first. And when they do attack, I act like I have some magic shield that protects me."

Maura put her fork down to give Jane her undivided attention. Her eyes spoke of compassion, but her voice remained silent. This was more than Jane had ever shared with her verbally and she was afraid of unsettling the circumstances that allowed it to be so.

"Everyone is so quick to call you the socially awkward one." Jane chuckled. "The truth is, I'm only ever really myself when I am with you."

This time it was Maura who reached across for the detective's hand. She gave it a squeeze of comfort and encouragement.

"You don't judge me…no wait," the brunette laughed. "You actually judge me all the time! My poor English, my clothes, my bad language, my eating habits, my laziness, my guessing at crime scenes…"

"Jane!" Maura reprimanded, then saw the twinkle in brown eyes.

"But you never judge _me_. Even with all of my faults, you make me feel…safe." The brunette's eyes glistened and she smiled a melancholy smile. "That is why I feel unworthy. You are special, Maura. I don't deserve you."

"Jane." This time it was said softly, reverently. The doctor stroked the skin across Jane's knuckles with her thumb, soothing the raw emotions that were bubbling to the surface and bursting to release their noxious energy. For a public restaurant, the moment felt quite intimate. Right up until the waiter returned with more wine. But Maura was pleased that Jane did not immediately retract her hand. Instead, they continued to eat clumsily, Jane with her right hand and Maura with her left, while their dominant hands remained joined grounding them both.

It didn't take much convincing to keep Maura there for dessert. Marquise au espresso - a rich dark chocolate French mini cake had them chasing each other around the plate with spoons. The mood had lightened considerable and deep dimples popped when Jane smiled at the antics of the doctor. Her…enjoyment…of the decadent treat was enough to draw attention from the neighboring tables.

They walked hand in hand the long way back through the park and up the middle of Beacon Hill. Little was said and they were content to simply be in each other's company. Jane was pleased with how the evening had gone. Dinner was fantastic, the conversation was more open and honest than she thought she could be, and Maura looked so much more relaxed. No longer the frightened mouse ready to dart.

They approached the familiar doorstep and Maura dropped the detective's hand to search for her keys. She unlocked the door and was two steps in the entryway when she realized Jane had not followed.

"Don't you want to come in?"

"I had a really terrific evening, Maura." Jane smiled but did not budge.

Maura took the three steps back to stand before the detective. "I did too, Jane. It was a wonderful date." She wanted to respect the detective's tempo, but found the bashful look coupled with the knockout dress and heels to be irresistible. "Is this a _real_ date?"

"Meaning….?" The detective could read her mischievious mirth.

"Most of my dates end with a kiss goodnight." She offered it playfully, but the look of trepidation she received in return sent her into full reverse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Hey wait," Jane grabbed a frail wrist as the doctor tried to retreat. "You have to stop that. You have me on such a narrow path. Any human - man or woman - who wouldn't be nervous before kissing the incredible Dr. Isles for the first time is either crazy or stupid."

"Technically, it is not our first kiss…"

Jane stepped into the doctor's personal space until they were breathing the same air. One hand moved up to rest on the curve of a hip and the other crept slowly into the small of the blonde woman's back. "Yes, it is," she whispered.

With only the slightest hesitation, Jane closed her eyes and pressed her lips firmly against those of her best friend. The softness was foreign but by no means unwelcome. For a moment, she was simply frozen as if a powerful magnet had found its mate and snapped together, locked in place. But she was not a timid teenage girl and this kiss needed to erase the memory of its predecessor. Jane took a deep breath through her nose and was filled with the scent that gave her life.

Flexing her fingers against the fabric at the base of Maura's spine, Jane parted her lips to caress those beneath her. She slowly worked her way from top to bottom opening her mouth wider with each gentle nip. The rush of adrenaline created a buzzing in her ears and a thumping in her chest. With a confidence she didn't actually feel, the brunette reached out with her tongue to stroke the velvety mate waiting patiently for her. They ran sensually against each other, side to side to side, before Jane retracted and squeezed her lips into a final pursed hug.

The detective rested her forehead against the blonde's giving their racing hearts a moment to calm before pulling back. It took another moment before hazel eyes opened to her and Jane was thrilled by the dazed and unfocused look from her date. Mission accomplished.

* * *

Maura was certain that Jane had said goodnight before she turned back toward the street and the unmarked cruiser parked several feet away. She was fairly certain they waved at each other before the doctor turned toward her open door and went inside. She thought she might have remembered to lock the door and set the evening alarm. But she simply had no recollection of how she made it upstairs to flop on the bed or how long she had been laying there fully clothed and staring at the ceiling.

She and Jane had had their first date. She and Jane had had their first romantic kiss. She and Jane were in love.

Maura could feel the knot of feelings begin to unravel and the strands fall limply away. The fear wasn't gone, but it no longer had a stranglehold dominating everything else in her mind. She kicked off her heels and scooted back into the middle of the large bed. Before she would let sleep claim her she wanted to replay every single detail of this evening that felt like the beginning of something big. In the vividness of her mind, it was 6:30 and she heard the doorbell ring.


	21. Chapter 21

Day 5

She was staring at the ceiling watching the shadows retreat to the far corner of the room. A smirk was plastered to her face simply from the memory of last night's kiss. Every moment, every texture, every delicious implication of it swirled around her brain like a freshly jostled snow globe.

For Jane, the evening had been a bit of a roller coaster. She was hand-clammy nervous when she knocked on Maura's front door. The initial vision of the M.E. in attire that was a mark higher than even her office runway clothes stole her breath. While some part of her knew she looked good in a dress, too, the lanky, all-appendages figure she had grown into seemed no match for Maura's seductive curves. Thankfully, the slow walk had given her time to settle back into their well-worn and comfortable friendship. For a few moments, they were back in time to when things were carefree and easy between them.

Then there was the conversation at the restaurant. It was uncomfortable and a bit painful, but she had made enough mistakes to know it was necessary. Surprisingly, it was also cathartic and gave Jane something she could hardly wait to drop in the lap of Dr. Truitt - emotional accomplishment. The idea of sharing her feelings so openly was new and foreign and scary and even a little embarrassing. But the pay off was worth every single frayed nerve. For she had kissed Maura.

And it didn't feel odd. And it didn't feel awkward. At first, it felt like sitting in front of a fire in a pile full of pillows with a thick, warm blanket wrapped around you sipping hot chocolate. Then it felt like the softest, most luxurious fabric or running your hands through the dense, luxurious coat of wild mink. Jane smiled at the boldness of her next move when their mouths opened and their tongues touched - then it felt like gripping a live wire coursing with 10,000 volts of electricity. It was a jolt that rattled every cell in her body and made her feel so very alive.

Still tingling from the moment relived, Jane rolled over and grabbed her cell phone dialing the familiar number. Her smile widened when she recognized the sleepy timbre in the "good morning" that greeted her.

"Doctor Maura Isles! It is…" she pulled her phone back to look, "…9:47! How could you possibly still be in bed?"

"Uh, well…I had a little trouble falling asleep last night."

Jane's insides fluttered at the revelation. "I see. Must have been all that rich, fancy food you ate last night."

"Um…perhaps is was something to do with my mouth, but I doubt it was the pasta."

That fluttering cascaded into an all-out stomach drop and the detective nearly choked. The seductive tone coming from the familiar voice of her best friend was both foreign and thrilling. She felt like she was careening around a turn and just tipped onto two wheels. She'd better get some control before she crashed.

"Well, I do have to get you back to fighting weight," Jane purposely redirected the conversation. "Did you like the restaurant?"

"Yes. The restaurant was lovely. I'm glad that you chose it. My dinner was wonderful, but it has certainly been a while since I've had that many carbs in one meal. It is a good thing we walked back to my house."

There was an awkward silence as the conversation led back to their doorstep goodbye. Jane wasn't sure how she should bring it up, check in to see if Maura was OK with her advance. The flirting had to be a good sign, but the brunette didn't trust her current ability to read her friend.

Jane's voice was quiet and almost pleading. "Can I see you today?"

The timid request cut Maura to the quick. While Jane was putting forth a heroic effort to come off assured and confident in her feelings, she could sense that Jane's tentative steps held firm to the risk of the ground falling out from under. Perhaps it was time to lighten the mood just a bit.

"I don't know," the doctor sounded like she was stretching while she spoke. "I have some things to do today."

"Oh. I see. Important things?" Jane tried not to sound so obviously fishing.

"Yes," Maura continued playfully. "I have dry cleaning to drop off, I need to go grocery shopping. Oh, and I desperately need to file down Bass's nails…"

"Whoa, wait. You are turning me down for a turtle manicure?!"

"Jane! How many times do I have to correct you? And proper care for domesticated reptiles is important to good health."

"Maura, he is a goddamn walking fossil - one that will outlive us both! I will be over to pick you up in an hour."

* * *

Maura stared at herself in the mirror. Jane would be here any minute and she was no closer to deciding on a suitable outfit. She'd opted out of several casual looks feeling that they hung off her smaller frame in a decidedly unflattering way. The loose, flowered sundress she was now wearing at least had enough body to give the illusion of a fuller figure.

They, or rather she, had decided on a trip to the botanical gardens. She wanted to have time to simply be with her friend with no particular activity serving as a distraction. The gardens would allow them to walk and talk and relax without the pressure of close quarters. Maura was filled with optimism, but they still had so much between them. The residual feelings from the path behind them and the unknown direction of the path ahead. Still, she could not deny the giddy anticipation she felt at spending time together. This was certainly an improvement over her previously fervent plans to run away.

The doctor was doing her best to use contoured makeup tricks on her thin face when the doorbell rang. On the one hand, she was sad that Jane had not reverted to her comfortable habit of bursting through the front door unannounced. On the other hand, she reveled in the anticipation of opening the door to her suitor.

She was not disappointed when the reveal showed an off-duty, jean-clad detective with her wild hair back in a loose ponytail. In her hand was a third bunch of roses. The vibrant bouquet was a solid sea of ruby red.

Jane handed them to Maura and wasted no time leaning forward for a casual peck on the cheek.

"Good morning," her eyes sparkled with affection. "You look beautiful."

* * *

For the next several hours, the two women wandered through exhibits, across fields of rose bushes and down paths lined with flowering camellias. They walked arm in arm, held hands and stole kisses in the remote corners of the garden. There was an easy affection exchanged and both women fought against any effort to complicate this part of the day with heavy talk or questions.

The trip wasn't terribly far off from something that Maura would have gotten Jane to do at any point in their friendship. But that version, going for a walk, pursuing the exhibits, grabbing a bite for lunch - would have been black and white compared to the vibrant color she was now experiencing. The simple task of holding Jane's hand would have been enough. Jane's hands were oft-concealed domains that only Maura had access to. To hold them freely as they strolled through the grounds was a cherished honor. Then there was the freedom to run her fingers down the length of Jane's forearm, to string her arms around the tall woman's waist and lean her head under a chin, to stare openly and smile with a clear affection no longer afraid to be caught.

The far edge of the property held a majestic garden of Greek-style statues. There were fierce-looking men with strategically-placed fig leaves and busty women whose togas all managed to fall to their waistlines. Maura observed and Jane giggled as they made their way to the large fountain at the end. Just before they reached it, Jane swung the doctor gently against the side of the last figure. A good four inches shorter without her trademark heels, Maura had to tilt her head up to look into brown eyes. They were large and wild with energy but also held a soft wonder.

Jane looked down into hazel eyes. Despite her own height, she had never dated a man shorter than her. She had tended toward large, muscular guys, perhaps in an attempt to force herself into the classic feminine role. She certainly didn't feel masculine around Maura, but she could not deny the pleasure that came from her physically dominant stature. It was a natural relationship. Maura was the fragile work of art and she was the plain but sturdy box that protected it.

Looking down at her masterpiece, her eyes gently closed as lips fell upon their mate's. So soft. So different. Thrilling in a way that was new, but befitting. Like a puzzle piece snapping into place, providing clarity once and for all. She felt Maura's hands run slowly up the middle of her back. Her own hands gripped the doctor's hips like a lifeline. This was not to be a quick, stolen kiss on the edge of a crowd. Lips parted and their tongues danced in a slow, delicate pace. The feeling was so luxurious that Jane was powerless to stop the rumbling half-moan that vibrated through her chest. Maura responded by pulling their bodies closer, pressing her fingertips into the muscles of Jane's upper back. They continued the romantic exploration until the sound of an approaching stroller-bound toddler echoed toward them. Unhurried, Jane pulled back to nibble a top lip, then a bottom before she resumed her close gaze into slightly unfocused eyes. Then she smiled, reached down for Maura's hand and led them off toward the fountain as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

They had tea and sandwiches in the rose cottage, all the while smiling like love-sick fools. They pursued the art gallery. Maura would stop to look at a painting and Jane would come up behind until she was flush against her back relishing the feel of Maura leaning into her. They explored the furthest edges of the property in search of secluded corners to kiss. On the drive back, Jane tucked their clasped hands against her thigh while Maura rubbed her thumb soothingly over a scarred palm.

The day had been like a glorious and unexpected dream. Most so because Jane had been able to completely let go, to shed the pretense she had carried for her entire adult life and be who she truly was..with the woman she truly loved. The release was so profound, it made her light-headed. But as they approached Maura's home, a heavy stone settled in Jane's gut. There was still a final necessary step. This was Day 5, the last in the committed suspension she had negotiated with the flighty M.E. Five days was not enough time to heal all wounds or clearly divine the future, but she needed to know that she had gained enough trust, enough hope to bind Maura to their trying.

Maura could sense the change in mood as soon as the parked. Jane pulled her hand free and ran it several times through wild, dark hair. Her eyes bore straight through the windshield, blinking rapidly. Her brow was wrinkled in thought. It was as if the carefree woman of this afternoon had never existed. This emotional retreat was what Maura feared the most. Despite her steadfast loyalty, Jane was a runner. The stronger the feeling, the faster and further she would run. Maura knew this and her original plan had been to run first before the hurt could begin.

But it was far too late for that. Despite an understanding of the risk, despite the full awareness of her vulnerable state, she had allowed herself to be drawn in. It had seemed like a safe move. Jane had surprised her in so many ways. Now, she saw the familiar anxiety on the brunette's face that told her it was all about to change. Bracing herself for the inevitable, her voice was quiet and flat.

"I…I don't suppose you'd like to come in."

Jane swallowed forcefully and turned toward the blonde. Her eyes cleared into a sharp focus and she nodded. "Yeah, I would."


	22. Chapter 22

Jane was picking at the label on the beer bottle and Maura was twisting a ring in circles around her finger. They were in the living room seated as far from each other as they could get. The air was thick with tension and neither woman seemed particularly eager to cut through it.

The back of Maura's throat burned and her chest constricted. They'd been sitting in silence for the last 20 minutes, and Jane gave no indication that she was going to climb out of her most recent hole. She knew she was a fool. A fool to think that they could go back to what they had or even forward to something that could approach the comfort of best friends. Today had been a trap. A glimpse at what could be, but only in a carefully constructed bubble away from their family, friends and careers. That bubble was made to burst - and the pain that followed was physically felt.

Maura had to breath slowly through her nose so not to telegraph her tears - the only outward sign of the deep pain that had returned to roost.

The emotional swings were draining to say the least. Jane slumped against the sofa and flopped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She knew how she felt. She knew what she wanted. She just couldn't seem to get the feelings to translate into words that she could say. Now, she was twisted into an emotional knot and way too into her head to move anything forward. She wondered if she could just fall asleep where she sat. Things might look better in the morning. It was a sideways glance that finally propelled her into action.

"Maura…?"

In one motion, she had abandoned her beverage, shoved the coffee table to the side and slid to her knees in front of her emotional friend. The blonde tried to avert her eyes, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Jane clasped her smaller hands and squeezed them into the folds of the skirt in her lap.

"Sweetheart…why are you crying?"

The blonde refused to answer. She sniffled, shook her head and blinked quickly trying to stem the flow.

The now too familiar look of emotional pain wracked Jane out of her self-centered mini-coma. What the fuck was wrong with her that she kept hurting her best friend? No matter her ultimate intentions, she had reverted to the myopic, self-absorbed hermit. Headless to the anticipation simmering under frayed nerves. And Maura…so worn, so scared, so defeated, was willing to accept whatever outcome that was lain at her feet.

"No," Jane's voice was both gentle and firm. "No crying. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This has got to stop. Come here."

Jane stood and pulled the woman up by their clasped hands. She led them both back to the sofa and sat sideways with her leg bent to press closely against the doctor's thigh. Maura had wiped brusquely at her face, but Jane would not relinquish the contact for long. Their laced fingers rested between them. Jane could feel her face contort in a scowl of compassion and remorse. She searched for timid, dew-filled eyes that were averted in submission.

"Maura, look at me."

When the blonde failed to comply, Jane reached to her chin and pulled her face up. Then she ran open fingers along a damp cheek and into the blonde tresses at the base of her neck. Her heart broke when Maura closed her eyes and leaned into the touch.

"Sweetheart, I love you. I love you, Maura." Hazel eyes opened and looked at her cautiously. "Today was the happiest I have ever been in my entire life. I…I can't lose that. Especially not by being the asshole that I am. "

The detective leaned forward and brought her lips to Maura's. They kissed slowly. Eyes open. Questions floating between them.

"I've got a lot on my mind - good things - but a lot. And I can't get myself out of detective mode. I'm trying to put the whole puzzle together, and like an idiot, I keep forgetting that you are the most important piece."

There was little she could read in Maura's eyes, but she could see fear.

"We both know more than most that life is a risk. Anything can happen - sometimes things we have no control over. There are no guarantees. I love you with all of my heart. I…I can't promise that I won't ever hurt you. But, I have given you the power to hurt me just as bad."

Jane took a breath and waited for a response. As helpless as it felt, all she could do at this point was make he own feelings clear and hope that Maura was willing to give her the chance she didn't feel she herself deserved. Even as she spoke, Maura remained unreadable.

"Ly"

Jane wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What?"

"Bad-ly."

The brunette shook her head wondering if that was somehow an answer.

Jane much preferred the scientific, logical and chatty version of her friend to the enigmatic, wary woman who sat still beside her. This shy, demure side of her friend was unsettling, but also very arousing. Before she lost her nerve, the brunette acted on her impulse.

Jane slipped her hand down across the doctor's hip and pulled until the smaller woman fell into a straddle across her lap. The startled blonde braced herself with hands on Jane's shoulders. Brown eyes looked up longingly.

"This is Day 5. The last day you gave me. I know a lot has happened. I know that I still have things to prove to you. I just…" Jane paused for a centering breath. "Stay. Please. Just…stay."

The chest at Jane's sightline heaved rapidly with anxious breaths. Tears from the tilted head fell like rain into her lap. A worry bordering on panic bubbled through her.

"Please…," she whispered again.

Jane could not swear if the slight nod was a mirage or not, but she would not waste the opportunity to wish it into reality. She leaned forward and brought their mouths together. They kissed slowly at first but gained intensity as their tongues explored deeper and deeper. Scarred hands gripped the doctor's hips but remained shyly locked in place.

Maura was doing her best to stay out of her own head. The names of hormones, neurotransmitters and other compounds swirled in her mind. She was anxious, exhausted, scared and stimulated all at the same time and the chemical cocktail that was coursing through her made it difficult to think.

Being with Jane, kissing Jane, sitting in her lap no less, was emotionally intoxicating. It was more than she imagined possible upon her return less than a week ago. More than she thought her friend was even capable of. After so many years, how their lives could change in such a short couple of weeks.

Maura would describe little of her life as being traditional. In fact, her notable parentage, forged stillbirth and subsequent adoption merely set the stage for a life that would go on to be very different from the average person. Certainly far different from the typical close-knit, Italian family of plumbers and civil servants. However, Jane had bucked that tradition in her own way - with a larger-than-life spirit that could no more be contained than a kernel of corn at temperature. The idea that that spirit would include a desire to explore a deeper relationship than their already chasmic friendship held a powerful allure - one that in the end, would supersede any self-preservation on Maura's part.

"Jane, I have never been able to read people socially. My whole life I have misinterpreted messages that people send. At this point, I find it hard to even trust my own feelings. But, being in your arms, being...close to you, wanting something that is for us alone...It feels so real, so good. Tell me I am not wrong. Tell me we are both looking for the same thing."

Actions over words, Jane leaned forward to clutch the blonde in a vice grip hug that was meant to convey all of the surety, all of the strength she could offer, all of the possessiveness she could claim over the woman.

"I just want to see you smile again." She whispered into a delicate ear.

They needed a break. They needed to reset and recover from the stress of their own emotions. Jane could feel Maura sag bonelessly against her when she leaned back on the sofa. She ran her hands comfortingly up and down Maura's back frowning at the texture of prominent ribs. For the next several minutes, they seemed content to just be. Jane continued to stroke and whisper soothing words. Maura was completely still. Not a word, not a movement save the heavy, deep breaths.

Glancing at the clock, Jane knew they couldn't…or shouldn't stay in that position all night. With a pat on the center of the back, she slowly sat them upright.

"Come on. You need to get out of this dress and I need to get some more food in you."

There was a definite look of reluctance on the blonde's face, but Jane was insistent. She stood them up and ventured toward the kitchen. When Maura didn't follow, the detective stepped back and grabbed her by the wrist, sliding her long fingers gently down the palm of the smaller hand.

"Come on," she encouraged quietly, but stayed facing Maura. Her head was tilted down with a docile, unsure look. _Disturbing, but a little arousing_ , Jane thought again. She was so used to the confident, poised professional. This fragile, unassertive figure was worrisome, but somewhat appealing to Jane's dominant nature.

Pulling on their joined hands, she led them toward the kitchen. Maura hardly seemed able to do anything on her on instigation. Jane sat her at the counter and retrieved two boxes of cereal. The sugar-loaded, carbo-mess that Maura allowed her to stash in the pantry along with a twig and sawdust, fiber tribute that the doctor favored on mornings where speed was the need. Jane poured the milk and handed Maura a spoon. They ate in silence then Jane cleared the dishes and led them up to Maura's bedroom in search of more casual attire.

Smirking at the similar task, Jane retrieved the baggy, hole-ridden sweats and t-shirt for herself then the stylish yoga pants and button-down cardigan for Maura. Green eyes shifted nervously between the clothes placed in her hands and the door to the adjoining bathroom.

"It's OK," Jane encouraged and the doctor retreated to change.

When Maura emerged, she had a bit more color to her complexion. Jane could smell the bright notes of a facial cleanser and the minty hint of toothpaste. Still, the doctor looked at a loss on what to do next. Jane held out her hand and drew her into a hug. She could feel a slight shudder and feared more tears were on the way. Staving off the emotional decline, she pulled back to place a calming kiss on pink lips. _Yep, toothpaste_ , she smiled.

Feeling the bedroom was still a bit too intimidating, the brunette led them back down to the living room sofa. She sat down and pulled Maura toward her side. Jane fingered the remote and surfed to ESPN for the sports highlights. Maura rested her head against Jane's chest and expelled a long, settling breath when strong fingers began to massage her scalp.

It was just after 10:30 when Jane finally clicked off the TV. Having not moved since sunset, the room was now completely dark. In the couple of hours of sports shows, the women had rotated and settled with Jane reclined against the armrest and Maura between her legs and against her chest. While Jane was sure that the blonde had nodded off for a few minutes at least, fidgeting hands showed her to now be awake.

"It's pretty late. I should get going." Offered the detective, yet neither woman made a move to get up.

Jane reached down to comb fingers through butterscotch hair. A moment later, she was rewarded with the first word Maura had uttered in hours. "Stay…."


	23. Chapter 23

They had slept together before.

In the guest room. Inadvertently. On top of the covers. With eighteen inches between them.

Now, they were in Maura's master bedroom, nestled under hotel-quality linens with their arms around each other. It was mostly dark, but Jane could see that pensive eyes were open and staring across her chest to the far wall of the room. It was bare, not a picture or a painting on it, but Maura's gaze was as concentrated as when she hunted for microscopic clues at a crime scene.

"It's gonna be OK," Jane whispered into the butterscotch hair tucked under her chin.

"How do you know?" Was the skeptical reply.

Jane didn't answer immediately. She didn't want to be flippant or cliché. There had been too much carelessness in her words in the past.

"The hard way, remember? From my Uncle Tony. I saw the consequences of not…of letting you think I didn't care. Of letting you think I didn't want you every single day. I…I understand the stakes of losing you as a…friend, as a partner….as a woman I now know how freaking great it is to kiss. I told you. I never have to learn the hard way twice."

Jane laced her arms a bit tighter around the slight woman and pressed a kiss into the crown of her head.

"It has been hard for me, too."

"I know. Really hard. When I think of everything you went through…I swear I will make it up to you."

"You're here." She said wistfully.

"I am. Shhh. Now get some rest."

A long sigh escaped on a deep exhale. Heavy lids blinked sluggishly then fell closed. Fatigue pushed away the fretting and claimed victory over both women.

* * *

Jane was in her car daydreaming at a red light. She sighed dreamily. That had seriously been the best night sleep she had had in…well, forever. It wasn't like she hadn't shared a bed with someone before. Only men. Only men she had had sex with. She chuckled as the thought kinda creeped her out now. No, this was something different. While she could never contemplate snuggling with a man, even after making love, waking with her arms around the soft curves of the doctor - in exactly the same position she had fallen asleep in - recharged her body to the depth of her bones.

Maura had seemed to benefit from it, too. In the morning, she was a bit more self-assured. She'd made them breakfast while Jane had showered. She'd smiled over the lip of her coffee cup. And while a shadow of concern swept across her brow, she had agreed that they needed to part ways to handle Sunday errands and the tasks of getting things back in order after their trip.

The doctor had walked her to the door. Jane had been transfixed by the soft longing that colored golden hazel eyes. Her heart soared at knowing that she had no reason to deny her desires any longer. Her hand slid behind an ear into silky blonde hair. Their lips teased each other with tiny nibbles before opening fully. A velvet tongue caressed hers…

HONK!

 _Crap!_ Jane thought as she sped through the intersection. This was going to be a very long day.

* * *

For once in her life, she was prepared. Jane had made her follow up appointment with Dr. Truitt for Monday afternoon. No matter how the weekend had gone, she had known she would need some time with the therapist to sort it all out. While she was thankful not to be reporting the broken heart of rejection, that was in some ways a simpler outcome. Now she sat with her legs crossed teasing a thread in the cuff of her pants wondering where to begin.

"Things are moving awfully fast."

"Yeah. After seven years of friendship, we are holding hands and kissing. Next thing you know, one of us is gonna be pregnant."

Dr. Truitt placed her fist under her chin and stared dryly. She had quickly become immune to the detective's sarcasm. Jane, who had not become used to the silence began to fill it.

"I'm just saying we have been through a lot together - good, bad, ugly. I know her better than anyone and at the same time, I suddenly feel like I barely know her at all. Well, that's not true. It just feels like it is hard for us to communicate. I used to always know what she was thinking and now…I can't read her."

"Maybe you should stop trying."

Jane narrowed her gaze at the psychologist like she was prepping for a fight.

"Stop trying to read her." She clarified. "Successful relationships rely on communication. _Verbal_ communication. Assumptions and guessing, on both of your parts, led to a pretty big crisis. I get paid the big bucks to tell you - don't go there again!"

The brunette opened her mouth for a snarky retort but censored herself. The doctor was right. And she was here for a purpose. Being combative was not going to be helpful.

Dr. Truitt continued. "Now…you can only play your part. And that is to get very clear about your own feelings and then be as clear as you can in communicating them. And when you don't know how she is feeling…you are going to have to ask."

"I am clear on my feelings."

"Yes?"

"I love her - heart, mind and body." Jane pressed with aggressive authority.

"Sounds simple." The doctor smirked her lips with the implied - _then why are you here?_

Jane breathed in deeply and exhaled with a sigh. She was going to have to dig deeper.

"The heart is easy. On some level, I've loved her from the start." She looked off toward the window. "The mind and body are still fighting things out a bit."

"Meaning?"

Brown eyes glazed for a moment then shut tight. Jane's brow wrinkled in painful thought. She was still for a moment, but only to raise her frustration to a boil. "Meaning? Meaning I don't have a fucking clue! God, this is so frustrating. Look, I know how to question someone. I get the simple open-ended questions. I'm not, _not_ telling you something because I don't want to. I don't know the answer! I don't know why. That is why I am here, for god's sake. Do you guys go to a special class in college where you learn to bounce things back into people's faces? Can't you for once just give me the answer instead of prodding me on with completely inane questions?"

Dr. Truitt put her hands up in a calming motion. "OK, Jane. Let me see if I can help. You said heart, mind and body…Another way to think of that is emotionally, mentally and physically. So emotionally, you seem to be clear on your feelings. Mentally, you are probably still sorting out what it means to have this new identity yourself. So what is going on physically?"

"You mean with Maura?" Jane bit her lower lip.

"I'm not asking for a graphic novel. Do you feel a physical response to her? Do you feel like you are attracted to her physically?"

Scarred palms rubbed against the fabric at her knees. "Well, yeah. I mean, I like kissing her. And I think about…more. I just…seem to get in my own way with my thoughts."

"Your mind and your body are fighting things out," the doctor replayed Jane's own words."

Dark hair fell in a curtain around a nodding head. "I get the concept. But I wasn't exactly that experienced with guys. And it's pretty easy to please a man - they are basically self-serve. How do I…shit, what if I can't…you know, give her a…or even myself…"

"Look," Dr. Truitt stopped her downward spiral. "I am not a sex therapist. But I will tell you this. The vast majority of people - heterosexual or homosexual - don't read a manual. They figure it out. And they do that by simply paying attention. To their bodies and the reactions of their partner…and by communicating. My advice would be to stay out of your head and stay in the moment. "

 _Right_ , Jane thought to herself. _Piece of cake._

* * *

Maura dropped the set of black scrubs into the bin and sat on the bench. Her bare legs were extended out, crossed at the ankles, and she stared at the chipped paint on un-pedicured toes. Calves still dotted with scratches and bug bites made her too self-conscious to venture to the nail salon. What seemed so long ago was still so close to the surface. A deep breath was the harbinger of another flashback to the Caribbean ordeal.

 _Head and limbs felt heavy. Weighed down by useless muscles and weary bones. The rhythmic rush and backwash of waves made her lethargic body feel like it was moving. Rocking back and forth, back and forth in a perpetual dizzying swing. The vertigo added to the cramping and nausea of her rebellious gut. Abdominals tensed against the urge to heave._

 _Her skin flushed in the glare of the unrelenting sun. A thin sheen of sweat stung her open sores but less so than the abrasive grind of the ubiquitous sand - in the creases behind her knees, at the waistband of her shorts, in her bra, in her hair. The slightest movement would agitate the delicate truce._

 _Thankfully, she was only lucid for short periods of time. A prisoner to her senses unable to react, only to perceive, until her conscious mind mercifully shut down again. How desperately she hoped for that oblivion. Time seemed meaningless as if she were trapped in purgatory, paying for transgressions but never making full amends. While she could not readily identify the reason for her suffering, she felt in her heart the fatal knowledge that she deserved it._

 _"_ _Maura, please hang in there."_

 _The voice was so familiar, so soothing._

 _A compassionate hand wiped the matted hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. It lingered for a moment just shy of a caress. Fingertips returned to smooth the skin at her temples. She felt like crying at the small act of comfort._

 _Human contact was the most powerful of drugs._

"Um…Dr. Isles?"

A sharp head shake broke the spell as hazel eyes turned up toward the door to her office. It was mostly closed, shielding her underwear-clad body from her co-worker. The cautious tone and shifting movement told her that she must have been gazing off for some time. Knowing she was changing after the autopsy, Kent must have nominated one of her female staff to check in on her.

"Is there an emergency?"

"Uh…no."

"Then I'll be out in just a moment."

Having confirmation of life, the tech scurried back toward the lab.

Maura rose from the bench and retrieved her outfit and shoes. Quickly dressed, she took a moment to gaze unseeing at her reflexion in the mirror. The powerful, confident medical doctor had been reduced to a diffident, timid woman. Despite Jane's overt and uncharacteristic reassurances and display of feelings over the weekend, she remained once bitten and twice shy. Now, back in the work environment, she seemed a victim of her paranoid mind. She hadn't seen Jane since they parted Sunday morning and she was powerless against the fear that the detective's openness about her own sexual identity did not include outwardly acknowledging Maura as the object of her desire. Jane was avoiding her…because Jane was a runner.

Physically unsteady, the ME made her way back into the office and into the desk chair. She still had a mountain of backlogged paperwork to go through. Without thought, she reached for the cup of coffee and took a sip. It was cold, but her favorite kind, and she had nursed it to last most of the day. As it left her lips, she saw the note. It was the one that Jane had left. The one that Jane had left with that very coffee this morning. The note that said how beautiful she was and that Jane missed holding her last night.

The doctor picked up the paper and rubbed the left-handed script with her fingertips. As if the motion, in fact, had the power to summon a genie, her eyes caught the lanky detective as she leaned against the doorjamb. Dimples bookended a broad smile and brown eyes were glossy with affection.

Maura stood up behind her desk. She knew her smile was considerably less confident, but that knot of spaghetti still hung tenaciously to her psyche. So many variables in the emotional equation.

Unable to summon words to express herself, she watched as Jane slowly made her way past the sofa, past the chair, past the desk and mere inches from her. Confident, sure hands glided across her cheeks and into the hair behind her ears. Strong fingertips scratched the base of her skull and she was unable to keep her eyes open.

Human contact was the most powerful of drugs.


	24. Chapter 24

Even though she knew they were coming, the touch of Jane's lips to hers was a shock. It was like leaning back in a chair and drifting just past that point of balance when your heart leaps into your throat and your stomach drops. The detective must have felt the tension. After an attempt to ease their mouths into a mutual exchange, she pulled back and looked questioningly into hazel eyes. Those same hazel eyes could not resist a nervous glance toward the open doorway.

Nodding subtly, Jane withdrew her hands from golden locks, dropped them to shoulders and offered a reassuring squeeze before she retreated to a safe distance.

"I'm sorry," Maura offered in quiet apology.

"How was your day?" Jane moved on cheerfully. "Stamina any better?"

"Yes and no." Maura sat back in her chair appreciating the withdrawal. "I made it through the whole day including two autopsies, but I'm simply exhausted now."

"Umm," Jane didn't sit. She stood with her feet should width apart, forearms resting on the pistol and phone holsters at her hips. "What are you plans for tonight?"

"I don't suppose I have any."

"Do you want some company?"

That brought a genuine smile to the ME's lips. "I missed you last night."

The detective leveled a returning smile that morphed into a smirk. "My place or yours?"

Jane watched brows knit and a mouth open that was clearly hesitant to speak. "Don't worry, Maura. We can go to your place. You have a much better shower and a much more comfortable bed. And even though I know we'll settle on take out tonight, I'd bet money on you having something more edible than I have for breakfast."

Once again, Maura was thankful for Jane's attempts to prioritize her comfort. If it were anyone other than the grumbly Italian, she might call it doting. If it were anyone other than the friend with which she shared such a muddled history, she might call it beguiling.

Truth was, she wasn't sure what to call it.

It was striking how a relatively brief moment could have such calamitous impact on your psyche. Could cause such an emotional fissure that you feared what was done could never be undone. But Maura also knew that the adage of trust being earned was only half true. Because trust could not be measured unless it was also tested. She would have to let go of the railing, at least a little bit, to let Jane show that her faith was not misplaced.

* * *

Maura lay awake feeling the rhythm of Jane's breathing as the forearm that was stretched across the brunette's waist slowly rose and fell. It was the 14th consecutive night that she laid in the middle of her king bed with the detective wrapped around her. A slender but stable arm held her tight, strong fingers gripped her ribcage and a chin tucked against the crown of her head.

It was so comforting.

Like they have always been this way.

They had settled into a new routine. They slept together, went to work together, returned home together - or at least met up by bedtime. Maura wasn't certain if all of their colleagues had pieced together Jane's recent admission and their synchronized habits. But then, if she thought about it, much was the same as it had been with them for years. Except for the sleeping together. And the kisses goodnight. And the entangled snuggling.

It was so comforting.

And Jane seemed at ease. There were no more emotional dips and valleys. There were no more flighty looks in her eyes. No fear that the detective was preparing to run. She was supportive and affectionate, never crossing the barriers that Maura set in the workplace. Out of the workplace, Jane was attentive, considerate…consistent.

They had certainly fallen into a rhythm. And a big part of Maura needed the stability, the predictability. Her frayed nerves were still a bit raw and she had little appetite for the unknown.

But tonight, she had a new fear.

Was this all there was? Was this to be their relationship?

Part of her was fine with that.

She enjoyed the kissing. The romantic looks. The more frequent touches. But the touches, while affectionate, could not be confused with intimate. Their relationship had certainly crossed a line beyond even her understanding of close friendship. But it had stalled, or maybe idled, at their present closeness. They acted like lovers, spoke to each other like lovers. But they had not made love.

Did she even want more, Maura asked herself? Did Jane? Would pushing for more only push Jane away?

The last thought brought a spike of adrenaline that made her twitch. Jane unconsciously squeezed her tight and Maura held her breath for the count of ten.

A compulsively scientific brain began to whirl.

There was rightfully room for concern. Jane had no actual experience to confirm her new-found sexuality. Well, neither did she, Maura reminded herself sternly. But Maura also knew she was naturally less inhibited and more…enterprising than the puritan detective. Not that she felt terribly enterprising these last several weeks. She felt stronger. She had gained some weight. She was back to her usual work and workout schedule. But she just couldn't shake the mental…fog…that held her confidence, her optimism, her happiness at bay.

She closed her eyes and vowed to try the pencil smile therapy tomorrow in the lab.

* * *

It was six weeks to the day since their last conversation that Constance called again. Maura had the reasonable belief that it was only because a calendar reminder had gone off in her mother's diary. They had last spoken when Maura had just returned from Saint Martin, still in some amount of shock, but able to hide it well - a technique born from the experience of measured, yet polite, phone exchanges since boarding school.

They paced through the expected greetings, health update and general small talk approaching the typical 20-minute duration when Maura impulsively took them on a radical turn.

"Mother," she foreshadowed the subject change. "I wanted to let you know that Jane and I have started a romantic relationship."

There were the few moments of expected silence before Constance zeroed in on the real topic at hand.

"Since this information was offered with the same warmth as one of your pathology diagnoses, I assume there is more to be considered?"

Maura was flummoxed by the response. She should not, however, have been surprised by the woman's accuracy. The aristocrat's social skills included the forensic ability to spot any crack that might provide her the munition to control a conversation.

"She's a woman."

"Yes, dear. That fact did not escape me. I'm asking why you are not expressing this development with the customary joy that might be expected."

"I'm very happy… _we_ are very happy. It's just…"

Constance knew patience was the best tool for the job.

"We haven't been intimate, yet."

"Well, that is a bit confusing."

"What do you mean by that?" The younger woman fell predictably into the defensive trap. Whether a shy little girl or an accomplished state official, her mother held the power to throw her back onto her heels with a seemingly simple statement.

"Hmm?"

"What do you mean by that, mother? You don't even seem surprised."

"Maura, darling. Why would I be? You do remember that I have met Jane. I've seen the two of you together."

"But this is recent. We've only just… Why did you say you were confused?"

"Because I assumed that once the two of you figured out what was plain as day, you would get on with a proper relationship."

Maura shook in an attempt to clear the mental chaos now swirling in her head. She'd just confessed to her mother that she had begun an as-yet unconsummated same-sex affair with her best friend and she was being chastised for not progressing to a _proper_ relationship?

"Jane and I have been through a lot, separately and together. We are taking some time to adjust to this new aspect before we introduce more physical elements."

"Is that so?"

The younger woman had to force herself to loosen the grip on the phone before it snapped in two. Her mother's deceptively simple phase sliced through her like a paper cut.

Perhaps sensing that she was pushing her daughter to the edge, Constance decided to be a bit more forthcoming.

"Maura, dear, you are flopping like a fish. I can tell that you are not happy with the current state of affairs. You said as much. Don't try to recast it as a situation you both agree on. Now the real question is what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know what to do!" The doctor gasped at her own outburst. Her behavior was anything but measured and polite. "I apologize, mother. I've not been myself lately."

"Darling, I should apologize. I'm being pushy and unhelpful. Do you want my advice?"

"At this point, I will take anything I can get."

"I don't mean to be so cliche to say that Jane is the _man_ in the equation, but at the same time, she does appear to have the same need to be in control. The trouble starts when the man doesn't know enough to be the leader. I'm sure you have had to play this role before. You are going to have to pull her along while letting her think that she is doing the leading. Believe me, you wouldn't be the first woman to train a partner in how to please them."

Maura had to hand it to her mother and her ability to convey sex therapy in terms that would be appropriate for a dinner party. "You are suggesting that I take the lead, but make her believe that she is in control?"

"The male ego is a fragile thing."

"But Jane is not a man."

"Yes, dear."

It seemed that Maura was going to be left with that puzzle as her mother had nothing more to add. Following well-wishes for her father and polite goodbyes, the doctor put the phone down on the coffee table and stared off across the room.

* * *

The pencil therapy wasn't helping.

In fact, she had snapped two of them in half.

It had been another two weeks since the call with her mother. Over a month since their return from the island. Everything seemed settled.

Settled. A comfortable thought with a bitter aftertaste.

Maura recalled reading a stoic paper on stress management. It had postulated that your life was like a hanging mobile with all of the pieces in a balance. When a change occurred - a new piece added, removed or moved around - the mobile was thrown into a temporary chaos. That was stress. Eventually, the pieces found their new balance and the mobile settled again. That was peace.

It seemed that her life's construct was like a wind chime that had endured some gale-force winds. It had rattled around to the breaking point. The pieces somewhat dinged up before finally coming to rest.

Now, Maura could see herself as a tiny person, clinging to her string. There was peace. But the overall shape was still not right. She could feel it. But, she wasn't certain she could manage the stress of sending the mobile into chaos with another change. She wasn't sure that her grip would hold. Maybe she would fall off the mobile entirely.

The paper had offered another piece of wisdom. It had gone on to point out that all change was stressful. Even good change.

Good change. Good change.

"Jane, is this the way it is always going to be between us?"

The detective who had been sitting at the end of the sofa absorbed in the sports wrap up looked at her with trepidation. This seemed to be one of those loaded questions that had the power to tilt the universe if answered incorrectly. Best to get a reading on which way the wind was blowing.

"Uh, well, that depends. Do you think _this_ is good or bad?"

The blonde's chest rode high then settled with a deep exhale. "You don't seem interested in touching me."

Jane's jaw slacked open in silent question. Her brows rose, then she made an exaggerated gesture with her chin toward the hands in her lap. The hands that were currently massaging the arches of Maura's once again manicured feet. She looked back at the fretting blonde, but her dimpled smirk did little to defuse the rising tension.

"Intimately." It was offered to clarify but the contrasting movement was a retraction of limbs from Jane's lap as the woman folded into a protective position.

Oh.

OK.

That's where this was headed.

Jane wiped her sweaty hands on the polyester slacks covering her thighs. The inevitability of the topic didn't mean she was prepared for it. Talking about sex was a well-established Rizzoli taboo. Still, she was more disturbed by Maura's apprehension. Normally, the woman could have a conversation about orgasms with a priest. The demure shyness had returned.

"It is not a lack of _interest_ on my part. I don't want to push you. With everything that has happened, I thought we just needed some time to…"

"Settle." The term was offered up like an unfortunate diagnosis.

"Is it what you want? What you are ready for?"

The doctor hugged her knees tightly. "I'm not sure I am ready for anything."

The air seemed thick with unvoiced thoughts. Jane gave it a chance to develop. Dewy hazel eyes met hers and the tremble of a lip added to the weight of the next words.

"I feel like I am just waiting for a shoe to drop."

Jane knitted her brows wondering about the use of this figure of speech. Maura didn't always get them right.

"Situations often follow a seemingly predictable path only to be radically changed when an unexpected, or maybe, in this case, anticipated factor is presented. We have…this past month…things between us are very…comfortable. But I know eventually, that will be tested…unless you are not even interested in…"

Jane was getting the picture clear enough. "Maura, I'm interested. A little terrified, but interested."

That seemed to trigger what was really building up inside the doctor's mind. The next thoughts tumbled out like gumballs from a broken dispenser. "I'm afraid that you won't like it. That we will take this further and you will find that you are not really…that you were mistaken and want to go back to being…"

"Whoa," she scooted forward and placed her hands against the ones holding knees with a death grip. "That's not the case."

"How can you know?"

"I just do."

"But _how_!?" Maura's scientific mind wasn't going to be satisfied with an answer of faith.

"Let's just drop the other shoe and find out."

While it was adorable to watch the genius woman puzzle through the words back to their meaning and re-insert them into the present use, the end result conjured the look of another figure of speech - _biting off more than you could chew_. Jane was quick to calm her nerves.

"Not right now! It's past 11 on a Tuesday night and both of us have to be in trial tomorrow."

"OK." It was a statement and a question.

"Soon," the brunette offered with a bit more confidence than she felt.


	25. Chapter 25

It could be said that Jane was a little distracted.

What else would explain the three packets of salt that were inadvertently stirred into her morning coffee? Or the two times that the prosecutor had to re-ask his question because her attention was stuck on the golden highlights of butterscotch hair sitting in the front row. Or the mile of extra driving back from the courthouse when she missed the off-ramp she had taken literally 300 times in her life.

It would also explain why she was sitting at her desk re-reading the same email for the fourth time, still not processing any of the words.

Jane was distracted because Jane hated new things.

Maybe more accurately, she hated surprises. Her life had far too many of them. Not the jack-in-the-box delights or the wonder of bow-wrapped presents. No, her life was peppered with the adrenaline-coursing flush of trips down dark alleys and into basements, lethal games of hide and seek, standoffs with weapons drawn.

So, Jane hated surprises. She much preferred the comfort of the known, the familiar.

Maura was familiar. Jane knew her speech patterns, how she thought. She could ask a question in such a way that she could know the exact words Maura would respond with. She would make a game of reciting them silently in her head. She knew the buttons to push to get a rise out of her friend or an eye roll, or a laugh or that megawatt smile the made Jane tingle on the inside.

She knew Maura's scent. She could pick it from the air even at the end of a long day in the autopsy suite after the minions had unleashed a hundred gallons of chlorine-laced disinfectant. Maura had several perfumes that would drive Jane to distraction. There was the one she wore when she went out. Not her favorite, which Jane now surmised, may have been a reflection of the activity more than the smell. There was the power scent she wore almost exclusively to court. And another one she connected to galas and snooty dinner parties. But mostly, Jane would catch the soft floral notes of everyday Maura. Strongest in the morning and mid-afternoon following her autopsy schedule. Often bringing a much-needed note of civility to a gruesome crime scene.

She knew her friend's favorite foods. The ones whose health benefits she recited like a dietitian, and the ones Jane would order herself just to watch Maura snitch from her plate. Maura was typically not a carb eater, succumbing only to dainty portions of her mother's endless buffet of lasagna, carbonara and gnocchi. But the woman was powerless against the sugar-filled, fat-laden, empty calories of Italian desserts.

And now she knew how Maura felt. Not the brief embrace of a comforting hug or the casual familiarity of friends holding hands. Not her own chivalrous hand against a lower back or the playful swat of a hip when she needed her to get moving. No. Now she knew the feel of copper hair running like liquid silk through her fingers. Now she knew the contours of her hands, her feet, her limbs from affectionate stroking while they sat together on the sofa. She knew how their bodies could melt together in a boneless confluence drawn even closer in the relaxation of healing sleep. And she knew the most luxurious feel of soft lips and warm tongue as they redefined what a kiss could be for the lanky detective.

Still, there were new things ahead. Unfamiliarity. Surprises. A dark alley of emotions. A basement of the unknown. Before Jane could slip further into her own anxieties, she reached for her iPhone and flipped through the photos to a new favorite. Maura was leaning against the rail with her elbows back and chest out, cutting an innocent, but no-less seductive, figure with a model-like pose. Her hair was blowing in the sea breeze and her smile radiated with the giddy excitement of anticipation. It was the first day of their cruise taken before they had even set sail.

Jane stared into eyes that were twinkling with affection. She had zoomed in more than once to analyze the emotions written so clearly on the doctor's face. Emotions that we directed at her. Affection so obvious. Evidence irrefutable. It had been there all along.

* * *

Maura hated surprises.

She knew why that was. Somewhere in her cognitive development, she had failed to establish the skills needed to react in the moment. That meant she couldn't read an evolving scenario and synthesize a real-time response. She couldn't think on her feet. When others waltzed into classrooms, living rooms or parties with the easy confidence of the socially adept, Maura crept quietly into the corners in hopes of observing as if at arm's length in a lab.

So she liked to be prepared. She needed to be prepared. That was, in fact, the driving force behind her preternatural intelligence. It was a proactive solution to the multitude of "what ifs" that plagued her conscious mind. Questions that might be asked. Topics that might be covered. Culture and rituals that needed to be responded to correctly. Facts, figures, theories, references - they were armor for her, and she suited up for every possibility.

Her genius was her defense.

While she had known others to show a jealous disdain for her encyclopedic brain, Maura had in turn coveted the relaxed comfort that came from casual confidence. The carefree ease that came from social competency. And the holiest of all grails was the omniscient "gut feeling" that guided people like Jane beyond obstacles through which her beloved science could not pass.

Jane could "wing it." Maura could not.

Her mind went back to the conversation she had had with her mother. The one where she had confessed both her non-traditional relationship and her despondency over its lack of progress. Jane was willing but admittedly nervous. Jane was confident in her desire but unsure about her path. Maura would have to guide her, yet let her be in control. She would have to lead the detective in a way that made the alpha female feel self-reliant.

Maura would have to prepare.

* * *

Jane sat in her car outside the Beacon Hill address and pondered the paradox of how three days could simultaneously crawl at a snail's pace and whiz by like lightning. It was Friday night. Shoe-dropping time. Pretty much no way around it. The weekend was here, neither of them was on call and Maura had confronted her on the lack of…headway…in the sexy department.

Now it was time to "man up."

The thought made her chuckle wryly. Were they really the cliché they appeared to be? Maura, the dainty, delicate, refined woman, and Jane, the tall, dark, overbearing, unmannered…well…other woman. If she thought of herself as the guy, would the relationship be easier? Jane picked at a loose piece of rubber on the steering wheel while a kaleidoscope of evidence swirled in front of her head. For as long as she could remember, she'd opened doors for Maura, helped her with her coat, held her chair at the table. She did this even if Jane herself was wearing a dress. Was it because of her latent feelings or something inherent to the aristocratic blonde? Maybe Maura was so high on the ladylike meter, everyone was simply a man by comparison.

No, Jane shook the image from her head. They were just two people with a connection that bound them together despite their differences. Sand and surf. Thunder and lightning. Locks and keys.

The universe had brought them together, heedless of gender, culture, talent, means or any other factor that would make them less of an odd couple. And they had weathered storms and built a foundation on years of shared experiences. They would build another layer today.

With the determination of an enlightened mind, Jane sprung from the cruiser and made her way to the familiar door. Back to their comfortably domestic habits, she opened it without hesitation and scanned the rooms for her target. Maura was in the kitchen area futzing over food, drink, it didn't matter. The detective was to her in six long strides.

Maura had heard the door open and, while she was surprised at how quickly Jane approached, it was the clatter of silverware dropped from her own hands against the countertop that caused her to jump. Jane's long fingers had latched onto hips and spun her into waiting lips. Culinary goals discarded, the kiss started with _hello_ and swiftly progressed to _I know what tonight is supposed to be about_.

Maura felt strong arms wrap around her back to bring their bodies flush. Jane was addressing her with such force that her lower back was biting into the counter. She struggled to keep up with the pace of lips and tongue plundering her willing yet overwhelmed senses. Her own hands gripped at shoulders merely to hang on.

Jane was on a track with deep grooves, a course of action clearly in mind. Her moves were confident and resolute. Maura sensed no hesitancy. In fact, she was a bit overwhelmed by the tenacious approach.

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

The assertive suggestion rumbled against her ear.

Despite the circumstances, it took the doctor longer than customary to process the meaning behind those words. Completely in character with her nature, Jane was unrelenting when her goal was clear and she was fixed on the next step in the path. Maura must have assented or nodded or otherwise indicated her agreement because Jane had found her hand and was leading her out of the kitchen and up toward her bedroom.

Whether the zealous foreplay or the fast clip up the stairs, Maura was out of breath by the time they reached the room. On hitting the carpet, her own feet ground to a halt just past the doorframe. She looked up as Jane, still holding her hand, turned to face her. So much was written in the gaze. The taller woman's frenetic pace looked to be stalling like a sputtering engine on a steep hill. The two held eyes for several more moments. The air was certainly charged, but not with sexual energy. The nervousness of both women filled the room like a thick fog.

Desperate to re-engage the mission, Maura reached down to slip off her heels and then pulled them forward and into bed. A sparkle of mirth twinkled her eyes at the clump-clump sound of work boots being cast over the edge of the footboard. Brown eyes held her own and it was clear that Maura would need to guide the proud detective after all.

"Jane. Touch me."

"Uh…"

"Intimately."

Those brown eyes blinked several times but Maura could see the resolve returning. A firm hand reached up to her hip, paused for a few breaths and then glided along her side and across to cup a full breast. Both women took a deep breath.

* * *

Despite the back and slumped shoulders that were facing her, Jane knew that silent tears were running down her lover's cheeks. Were they even lover's? They had tried. She had tried. She had really tried, doing everything that Maura had asked her to. But confirming her worst fears, sex was something that couldn't be forced. Especially for women.

God, how it had always been so much easier with men. They could go from a shouting match to a boner simply at the sight of a pair of boobs. But women were different. Sex was more of a mind game than a simple hormonal, physical response. She knew that enough from her own experience with men. Even the guys she thought she liked, the ones she thought she had an emotional connection to, couldn't bring her to orgasm. Not that they spent a great deal of energy trying.

She had tried really hard with Maura. She was focused and attentive and listening. And she had patience. She would have kept trying. They just couldn't seem to make the connection necessary for both of them to relax. Both of them to trust one another. At first, they seemed to be really enjoying each other. Seeing Maura naked for the first time was breathtaking. And Maura seemed…aroused. But the more Jane tried to bring her to orgasm, the more it ebbed away. She couldn't get the right speed, the right angle, the right connection.

Finally, Maura sighed and suggested they just try to get some rest. She said she was OK. She said she wasn't disappointed. She just wanted to get some sleep. But Jane knew better.

Angry at her failure, Jane laid flat on her back and stared a hole in the ceiling until she finally fell asleep, too.


	26. Chapter 26

When Jane woke, it was the middle of the night.

She sat up and shook her head to clear it, but it was the view of her nakedness that brought her back to the present. Melancholy eyes drifted to the figure beside her. A full moon was out and its angle cast a silvery glow over the sleeping doctor. Jane was transfixed by the beauty and moved she believed at an almost subatomic level.

Her chest constricted. Fists tangled into the bedsheets. How could she let this happen?

For a few seconds, she is back in Dr. Truitt's office.

 _Stop trying to read her._

This was the friend she had shared more secrets with than her own family. This was the person who knew about her weaknesses, her fears. The woman who had shared some of the darkest lows and the brightest highs. But it seemed they were caught in a rut. Making assumptions, misreading body language, guessing how the other felt. And that was what led them over a cliff every single time.

Sex was certainly about communication. And once again Jane had fallen back to action. But action was not enough. Showing your feelings was not enough.

Broad, thin shoulders shrugged and then sagged with the outpouring of breath. _This_ was not going to be their story.

The slim body slid back down into the bed and rolled toward the porcelain spans of the back forming a wall between them. A shaking hand reached up to a slim shoulder and gently stroked down the upper arm and across shoulder blades. Gaining in boldness, the palm moved to caress a soft hip and upper thigh.

Eyelids fluttered as the doctor emerged from sleep. She rolled onto her back and sucked in a breath when the motion brought Jane's hand to the cleft of her hip. But brows soon furrowed and defeated eyes found their focus. With a resigned shake of the head, a tight jaw gave way to issue a refusal.

"Maura…"

Preempting the rebuke, Jane began to talk. Uncensored from her heart. The fear of their failure outweighing the fear of expressing her innermost thoughts.

"I want to never know a day without you," she began. "I want to grow old and gray and haggard looking into your smile. Because the light from your magically hazel eyes actually makes me drunk. You're my best friend. You are so much a part of me that losing you is like a… an amputation. You make me who I am. And without you, I'm…I'm lost."

Maura's tear-streaked face fuzzed in front of her as she strained to look through the tears now breaching the brims of her own eyes. With a nervous, but hopeful, smile, Jane swiped them clear and continued.

"I know you always take the people closest to you, you know…your family, for granted. But I don't ever want to do that to you. Because you are a gift. A precious gift. A…" Jane was suddenly distracted when her eyes glanced down to notice the bare skin beneath her. "A damn sexy gift."

Jane could feel her face flushing. Her breath came in shallow pants as she watched her own hand glide along a silky soft belly then up to palm a luxurious breast. She shuddered at the feel of a nipple hardening in response to her touch. This was the connection they were missing.

"God, I love you, Maura." She squeezed the supple flesh. "So much."

The blonde arched her head back, her lips parting in a sigh of pleasure. But when she closed her eyes, Jane saw the remnant tears drip down her temples. The memory of just a few hours ago gave her pause. She could not repeat that defeat.

With a burst of energy, Jane sprang to her knees shocking the bed with a bounce.

"Hang on…I know just what we need." And with that, she darted from the room like a midnight streaker.

Not quite sure what to make of the interruption, Maura reached down for the bedsheet and pulled it up over her bare chest. Butterflies rippled through her in nervous anticipation. She listened to the drumbeat of feet down the stairs, some nondescript rummaging and then the pounding of feet on their ascent.

Jane, fully naked and out of breath came to a stop at the base of the bed. In her hands was a well-worn Red Sox hat. She presented it to Maura then donned it brim backward as she spread her feet and put her hands to her hips in a full superhero pose.

Despite herself, Maura bubbled with laughter at the antic.

"I figured we needed some extra power. I wear this every time I want to…" She popped an eyebrow and leered, "…satisfy my woman."

"Every time?"

"Well, will have to play that by ear. You may not always be able to handle its power."

"I see."

Jane crawled up the bed on her hands and knees until she was hovering above the blonde. She sat back to straddle the doctor's hips and looked down at the sheet between them. Her eyes squinted and lips pursed at the puzzle before her.

"Hmmm. Now, how do I approach this?"

With a comically furrowed brow, the detective reached up to grab the edge of the sheet. As if diffusing a bomb, her hands slowly folded it back and eased it down inch by agonizing inch. The friction of the fine cotton brought nipples to full alert. When they were finally revealed, Jane released the sheet and sat back with a gasp.

"Oh no! This is terrible," her eyes twinkled with humor. "Have the mighty Sox met their match? These are, in fact, the most perfect boobies ever to grace the earth. Ted, Cy, Yaz, we've got our work cut out for us!"

And with that, the brunette dove in.

And it was a bit of a moving target as Maura's chest jiggled with laughter.

Maura arched up when a warm, wet mouth captured its prize. Her hands tangled into wavy hair, pulling her in, but careful not to displace the talisman that gave Jane her fabled strength. Jane had, indeed, diffused the situation. She'd rediscovered the fun-loving, sarcastic, playful relationship that had been the foundation of their friendship from the start. The connection that allowed them to be imperfect in each other's presence.

So they did make love. Each awkward move was met with giggles and laughter. Each fumble with patience. Each caress with love. Mouths tasted. Fingers explored. And all the while Jane reassured with words of desire, comfort and surety. When the vibrating crescendo of ecstasy rolled through her body, tensing each muscle down to her fingertips then receded to be replaced by a heavy, sated release of tension, Maura was left with a feeling that superseded even love.

She felt safe.

* * *

"You're not serious?"

The cranky brunette grumbled from her comfortable spot on the sofa. Despite the acerbic tone to Maura's latest suggestion, it was the most glorious Saturday afternoon that Jane could remember. She was stretched out with her head in Maura's lap watching the soundless Sox game on her lover's enormous TV.

They'd had sex this morning. After they had had sex last night. In fact, they were getting quite good at it. While she would recall a dread to the morning-after proclivities with men, waking to the naked body of her decidedly female lover made her a believer in _breakfast in bed_. Over the last couple of months, they had come to learn that their compatibility - even though it stemmed from their continued desire for the opposite of each other - translated into a deep, fulfilling love life. Gay-gay or Maura-gay, there was no turning back.

But the latest suggestion would put that to the test.

"I found one that leaves from Boston Harbor. Seven days. Up to Bar Harbor then Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island. Ooo - then on to Quebec City! I can practice my French," Maura bubbled as she scrolled through the laptop balancing on the sofa arm.

"Sweetheart," the endearment Jane had settled on. "As much as I love the idea of close quarters with my favorite gal, don't you think that might be tempting fate?"

"Darling," Maura's more sophisticated term. "We have overcome so much. This is our - what do you call it? - full circle moment."

Jane sat up and twisted at the waist to face the blonde. "I can think of some other full circles I am more interested in…" A vision of mouths, nipples, wedding rings swept through her mind. But the look on Maura's face cast them all aside. She wanted this. She needed this. And Jane would deny her nothing.

The doctor, confident in her place as the detective's top priority, simply waited for the inevitable.

In short order, Jane released her textbook sigh of resignation but ticked off her list of demands.

"No cruise ship shows. No umbrella drinks. No island tours." She huffed. "And if I meet a guy named Dennis, I'm going to deck him as a preventative measure."

"Fine." Maura agreed and leaned forward to capture petulant lips.

Jane released another sigh. This one distinctly more content.

Glorious, indeed.

* * *

 **C'est tout.**


End file.
